


Everything and Nothing

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, Chronic Pain, Chronic limp, Drinking to Cope, Fix-It, Full Moon, Gay Sirius Black, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hogwarts, I promise there will be a happy ending!!, Infidelity, Letters, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), Love Letters, Love Triangles, M/M, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Original Character(s), POC Harry Potter, POC Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Burn, Swearing, Teaching, Trauma, basically a shit ton of angst, until it's not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The years following James and Lily's deaths and Sirius' arrest, Remus finds himself writing letters to Sirius every October 31st. Over time, he shares with Sirius in these unsent letters what life is like without him, eventually detailing his process of moving on with none other than a Muggle named David.But, just as Remus thinks things are getting better, Sirius escapes from Azkaban. This changes everything.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Previous Remus Lupin/original character, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 122
Kudos: 102
Collections: Anonymous





	1. October 31st, 1982

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned that this fic is going to delve into some very deep topics, including mourning, loss, mental health issues, infidelity, and a plethora of other things I'll be adding along the way.
> 
> P.S. This does end happily, don't fret <3

Sirius,

You can guess what day it is. There’s this bitter taste in my mouth that I can’t get rid of, and I don’t know whether it’s from the overwhelming heartbreak that I’m drowning in or blood from gnawing on the inside of my cheek. You always told me that was a habit I needed to quit.

It’s pouring out. Remember how you used to love turning into Padfoot so you could snap at the raindrops? That was always something that could make me laugh ─ the kind of laugh that I could feel deep in my stomach. The kind of laugh that made my throat raw. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.

I don’t know why I’m writing you. Well, that’s a lie. I do. But I should be angry, shouldn’t I? I should be furious at you for giving away a life that we worked so hard for. I should hate you, knowing damn well what events led to a year ago today.

Everything in the flat reminds me of you. It’s the kind of hurt that’s suffocating, smothering me until I can’t breathe. It’s been a fucking year, and I haven’t had the energy to change your pillowcase. If I concentrate really hard, I can still smell hints of you, hints of us. A mixture of cinnamon, chocolate and coffee. All of your colognes are sitting on the top of the dresser, untouched. Hell, I haven’t touched anything. I can’t bring myself to get rid of your things. After all, they’re all I have. But the thing is, it’s like living with a ghost. You’re here, but you’re not. Sometimes I find myself reaching out to touch you, but the only thing my hand meets is empty air.

I can’t remember the last night we spent together ─ the night before everything happened. I can’t even remember the last thing you said to me or the last thing I said to you. A part of me hopes that I was in one of my moods, snapping at you for no good reason. Unfortunately, the other part of me hopes that I told you how much I love you. Can you see my predicament?

I miss you every second of every day. My mind is plagued with the idea that you’re existing here, in the same world that I am, but you’re not with me. I hate you for not being with me. God, I hate you so fucking much. Or, rather, I wish I did. 

I’m still trying to wrap my weary mind around what the fuck happened. I don’t understand why you did what you did, and I don’t think I ever will. But Lily and James, Sirius? Not to mention Peter. You might not have killed them, but you certainly took their lives.

I’m exhausted. Every day is so fucking hard. I wake up thinking of you, and I go to sleep thinking of you ─ when I can actually fall asleep, that is. I can’t seem to stop the dreams, no matter what I do. You’re always there, and so are Lily and James’ vacant eyes.

I keep thinking about our first kiss. I wonder if you do, too. It was in 7th year, the day we got back from our Christmas holidays. We were at the shore of the Great Lake, which was frozen over at the edges, and I could see your breath. There was no one around, since we were the only ones mad enough to be out in the cold.

You made the first move. We were talking about home, of all things, and what it meant to the both of us. I rambled on about Hogwarts being home, and when it was your turn, you told me that I was home. Then, you kissed me. Your lips were cold, and they were chapped. And yet, at the same time, they were the softest things I had ever touched. Kissing you felt like letting out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. It felt like coming home after a long day.

I can still feel your lips on mine and the way we always held hands when we kissed. We used to spend hours just looking at each other in bed. I loved looking at the pale freckles that dust your nose and the way your eyelashes are as black as midnight. I miss looking at you like that.

I still see you as the stupid, ridiculous, beautiful fifteen-year-old that decided it would be a good idea to pierce his own ear without any supervision. I don’t think of you as the murderer you inexplicably became. I can’t. Pushing the thoughts out of my mind and heart takes everything I have.

I haven’t seen Harry at all in the past year. He went to Petunia and Vernon. I cannot bear knowing that you’re the reason that he’s going to grow up in that hell house. I’ve written them three times, begging to see Harry. They've refused every time. I miss the feeling of his soft, golden brown skin when I held him. Whenever you and I babysat him, I always found myself thinking about what it would be like to have a child of our own.

The cycles have been rough since last year. I have a limp now, and the doctor I saw at St. Mungo’s said that there’s nothing I can do about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if, in the not too distant future, my body simply gave in. The wolf can feel the absence of you, Prongs, and Wormtail. He misses his pack.

Things have just gone to absolute shit. I feel like crying all the time, and yet I don’t seem to have the energy to conjure any tears. I feel empty, but I feel heavy. I feel everything and nothing. 

Two absolutes.

I don’t know what I’m going to do for the rest of the night. I’d drink, but I don’t think alcohol would even begin to numb my heart. You’re ruining me, Sirius.

Remus


	2. October 31st, 1983

Sirius,

I got a job. I guess that’s something. It’s at the library near our flat. My flat. I mistakenly still think of it as our home ─ something it’s never going to be again.

Anyway, the library is a pretty dull and mundane job, which is perfect for me. The extent of my responsibilities involve calling up strangers’ houses to berate them for having overdue books. This is particularly cathartic when I need a distraction from you, which is always, of course. But most of the time, I’m sitting in the quiet. I read books and listen to the radio to pass the time, trying as hard as I can to keep you at bay.

You always had an appreciation for afternoon light, saying it was your favorite part of the day. I never knew what you meant about time freezing between two and three o’clock, but the other day at the library, I felt it. I felt the time stop. It was like nothing was real, and I was in a place that didn’t exist. As I sat there, feeling the earth come to a still, it was almost as though everything was alright.

I was always astounded by how observant of a human being you are. You noticed everything ─ the way the silver moonlight created shadows on our bed sheets and the way that I bite this one spot on my bottom lip when I’m nervous, creating somewhat of a permanent scab. Life used to seem so much more beautiful when you were narrating it. I would have listened to you go on about the world for forever, if I could have.

Turns out we didn’t have forever.

I went to the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow today. It was a bright, clear day, and the air was crisp with the smell of falling leaves and wet earth. Somehow, the blue sky seemed out of place on a day that’s saturated with so much darkness. Lily and James’ shared headstone was dirty. Clearly, no one had visited in quite a while. I _Scourgified_ it as best I could, but there were some stains that I couldn’t manage to get out. I guess that’s what I get for not having visited since they were lowered into the ground.

I really could have used you at the bloody funeral, you know. It was small ─ too small, especially being that the only other person there besides me was Snape. I was admittedly close to telling him that he didn’t belong there, that Lily and James wouldn’t have wanted it, but I was too tired to talk. At that point, all of my energy was going into crying.

It was unbearable watching Lily and James disappear into the earth for forever. There’s such a finality that comes with death. I’ve been thinking a lot about that. The moments of before and after were so clear-cut and precise, and yet the second that it took for everything to change seems so muddy. They were there, with living, breathing hearts that were pumping blood throughout their bodies, and then they were gone.

It was kind of like that at the funeral. One minute they were in their caskets, and the next they were being buried.

I remember thinking how odd it was to be standing so close to James and Lily’s bodies ─ something that seemed so mundane and simple ─ but the circumstances were so different. I wish I could remember talking to them for the last time. I can’t remember much before or after the day they died.

I don’t even know where Peter is. Dead, I suppose. I miss him, too. I wonder if he went the same way that James and Lily did. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. God, his body is probably someplace where no one will ever find it. His parents will never know what happened.

I had sex last night for the first time in two years. I met her at the bus stop while on my way home. She was pretty, and I wanted to feel something. When we were sleeping together, all I could think about was you and the way your body felt against mine. Being with her didn’t feel good. It felt warm, and nothing more. There wasn’t any connection. Not like the one we had, anyway. As soon as I finished her off, I asked her to leave. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Pathetic, huh? I didn’t even learn her name. That doesn’t matter though, I suppose. I learned enough to know that she wasn’t you.

I made the mistake of looking at the scrapbooks you and I made back at Hogwarts. It hurt so fucking much to look at the two of us together, smiling like the naive idiots we were. And then there were Lily, James, and Peter. The pictures from 7th year weren’t taken that long ago. We all looked more or less the same the last time I saw everyone.

There’s this one picture in particular that had me sobbing so hard that I couldn’t catch a breath. You know the one I’m talking about. It was taken on Lily’s Polaroid during a weekend trip to Hogsmeade in 7th year. You and I were wearing coats, scarves, and hats, and the tip of your nose was red from the cold. We looked happy. We looked in love.

I’m so fucking lonely, Sirius. I go to bed alone, and I wake up alone. The only complex conversations I have are with myself. I miss board game night, and I miss going to the cinema with you. And God, I miss going to the cafe across from the library. You always got the same thing, tomato soup and two pieces of buttered bread. If you were feeling adventurous, you ordered lemonade. I see the cafe every time I go to and from the library. Everyone in there always seems so happy. That used to be us.

Talk to you next year, maybe.

Remus


	3. October 31st, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: trichotillomania

Sirius,

My mum died in January. Pneumonia. She was fine at first. Then she wasn’t. Before we left for the hospital, Mum promised me that she would be alright. I can’t believe I was fucking stupid enough to believe her, because when in my life has anything been alright?

It was just the two of us at the hospital. It’s been the two of us for years now, since Dad died. Surely you remember that. Or, well, do you? Anyway, my point is that it was lonely. She couldn’t talk, so it was up to me to fill the air with noise. I mostly told her memories that I had of her. I think it made her happy.

Mum was in the hospital for a week. I knew on the seventh day that she was going to leave. It was this deep, heavy feeling that I got in my stomach ─ not dissimilar to the one I got when I heard the news about James and Lily. I was holding her hand when it happened, you know. She was there, and then she wasn’t. I could feel her take her last breath. 

Death sure is a fucking bastard.

The world is such a lonely place now. I don’t have a single person left. I try to blame you for everything. It’s easier that way. Well, most of the time. I still have to convince myself that I’m mad at you. It’s not easy knowing that you, the person who held my heart, let it fall without a single care. I mean, honestly, fuck you.

God, I can’t believe it’s been three years. I say that in every letter, I guess, but it’s true. I feel like time is going at such a rapid pace, but, at the same time, things never seem to change. It’s like time is stuck, and no matter how hard I push on the hands, they always remain pointing at 10:04 p.m ─ the time it was when the Aurors broke the news to me about … well, everything.

I argue with myself every day over why you did what you did. In many ways, I hope it was just a lapse in judgement ─ you were having a bad day and were impressionable, and that’s why you gave Lily and James away. But, another part of me wonders if this was always inside you, if you were a bomb destined to go off. The only thing with that argument is that I think I would have noticed if your heart had turned black. After all, it was me who took care of it.

Another thing I don’t understand is why you didn’t reveal my location. You easily could have told Voldemort the address of our flat, but you didn’t. Yeah, I get that we were boyfriends, but you weren’t any closer to me than you were to James. So why him? Why Lily? Why Peter?

Did you ever love me at all, Sirius? I don’t know which answer is worse. On one hand, the idea of you loving me but giving it all away is incomprehensible. But, on the other hand, I don’t know if I could take knowing that you never loved me. Either way, all of those memories that we built together are ruined, tarnished. I try not to think of them, because every time I do, I can feel in my chest how happy I was.

I haven’t slept well in three years, but the insomnia has gotten worse in the last few months. Last week I went seventy-two hours without sleep. I spent a few of those hours working, but I also read. A lot. I got through four books. The problem is, though, that no matter what I’m doing or what time of day it is, all I can think about is you. Whether I’m sleeping or awake, your face is the only thing I can fucking see. I hate it.

I started pulling my hair late last year, so that’s new(ish). There’s this one spot I pull from, the back left side, almost where my parting ends. I can’t seem to stop. I’m starting to get a bit of a bald spot, which is somewhat embarrassing. I guess this is a way of my body trying to cope, since it always makes me feel better. There’s a pile of hair behind the couch. I occasionally check on it to see how big it’s gotten, since I’m not bothered to hoover it. It’s not like anyone is coming to the flat any time soon.

I’ve been exchanging letters with McGonagall, most of them revolving around Harry. I keep begging her to find a way for me to see him. He’s four now. God, three years of his life I’ve missed. Three years he’s spent locked away with people who will never love him. I don’t know how to forgive myself for letting this happen. I should’ve taken him, Sirius. I should’ve taken him and ran. McGonagall says there’s nothing she can do, although she did tell me that she checks up on him every now and then via Animagus. I asked her how awful Petunia and Vernon are, but she purposefully avoided the question. That doesn’t exactly comfort my imagination.

I’m probably going to order some Indian food and cry in front of the television for the rest of the night. Maybe tomorrow, too. I’ll call in sick to work if I have to. It’s not like the library is a happening place.

I didn’t get to the cemetery today. I couldn’t seem to move. I’ve spent most of the day lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. I haven’t cleaned the flat in a bit, so there’s little particles of dust everywhere. Just as the sun was about to sink tonight, the last golden rays caught on the dust particles drifting in the air. They looked like magic.

Remus


	4. October 31st, 1985

Sirius,

I’ve always felt insignificant. I know you know that. The notion of being unimportant settled into my soul a long while ago. Lately, though, I’ve found the feeling to be growing, stretching over my bones. I never believed I was loved, but I always had the reliability of you telling me that it wasn’t true. Now, I don’t. I haven’t had someone tell me that they love me for a while, and I think it’s beginning to show.

I’d love myself, if I could. I really would. I don’t want to keep feeling like this, Sirius. I don’t want to feel as though I could slip away, and the world would never even notice. I mean, what the fuck do I even contribute to life? Nothing. That’s what. I’m this empty shell of a useless human being.

I used to think I was sad when we were back in Hogwarts, but those feelings were nothing compared to the sinking feeling that is now constantly flooding my system. I wish I’d realized how good I had it. God, I had everything I ever wanted, and I couldn’t even see it. I was too busy being miserable.

I always admired your bizarre ability to not wallow in all of the bullshit that you had to deal with. It was kind of terrifying, if I’m being honest, and yet I envied you so. I still do. I can vividly remember the night you ran away. It was July, and the air was thick, sticky, and hot. I had just gotten out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself, and when I reached my room, I found you sitting on my bed. I sat next to you, not bothering to dry off my hair. Your steel grey eyes were rimmed red, and you looked pale with anger. I grabbed your hand, knowing something was wrong, and it was shaking. But your face ─ _God_ , how I remember your face ─ you were expressionless.

You stayed at my house that night, since we didn’t want you travelling to James’ house in the dark. You and I spent hours talking about why you left, or, rather, why you couldn’t stay. You came out to me, and I held you close, assuring you that nothing had changed. You were still the same git, after all. Little did you and I know that you coming out changed everything.

You eventually fell asleep in my arms, but I couldn’t get my mind to settle. I was so furious at your parents. Hell, I was furious at Regulus. You were too good for your family. You always had been.

I remember when I used to believe that the air you breathed carried all of the weight that magic had to offer. I was constantly drunk on the sheer existence of you, Sirius Black. I don’t know whether or not I wish our paths had never crossed, to be honest. In many ways I do, because you fucked me up in so many different, complex ways. But, on the other hand, my life would have been miserable without you. It _is_ miserable without you.

Love and hate seem to have this intense battle that is always going on, and I feel torn between the two. They both have to do with you, of course, and the way you make me feel. I hate what you did, Sirius. I hate it with everything I’ve got and more. But I don’t hate you; I love you. And I hate myself for it.

This wasn’t supposed to be the way our lives turned out. Our friends weren’t supposed to be dead, you weren’t supposed to be withering away in Azkaban, and I wasn’t supposed to feel numb every second of every fucking day.

Every time I remember what today is, my body feels like getting violently sick. It’s been four years since James, Lily, and Peter died. Four years since I saw Harry. Four years since I kissed you.

Four years that I’ve been alone.

Time has become such a warped concept. I feel like I can’t breathe. The moments that fill Then and Now are crumbling with each breath, and my body is dying from the memories. I’m done.

I don’t know how to survive this, Sirius. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t know how to make myself feel better. I get up, sort of eat, go to work, come home, and go to bed. I’ve done that exact routine for years, without any variation. If you were here, you’d tell me to go to the beach for the weekend. And I would ─ I honestly would ─ but I can’t think of beaches without thinking of you.

Remember when we took Harry to the beach while James and Lily went away for their one year anniversary? We took him on your motorcycle, sandwiching him between us. God, how he loved it. He loved the feeling of the foamy surf brushing against his chubby legs. I can still hear the sound he made every time the water touched his skin. Right before we left, I scooped him up into my arms and stood in the surf, letting the small waves break on my shins. You wrapped your arms around me, and the three of us watched the orange sun sink into the water.

In case you’re wondering, I still haven’t changed your pillow case. I’ve come to peace with the idea of living with the ghost of you, since I can’t seem to bring myself to throw your shit out. I guess it’s my way of mourning someone who isn’t dead. I hope I’m somehow able to come up with an explanation for why you did what you did soon enough, because the idea of not knowing is killing me.

Remus


	5. October 31st, 1986

Sirius,

All of these years, and I never thought to connect the dots. It’s the prank, isn’t it? God, it always goes back to the fucking prank. Ten years, and we still haven’t moved past it, have we?

I never should have forgiven you. The pain you caused, Sirius … it’s not something that someone should be able to move past. I mean, what the bloody hell would compel someone to fuck with death? You interfered with a lot of lives that night, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a tell-tale sign of what was to come.

You, of course, know that James was the one who told me what happened. I remember waking up in the infirmary, and you weren’t there, for once. Instead, James was sitting next to my bed. He was shaking, and his eyes were red from crying. I was so confused, and because you weren’t there, I immediately started worrying that I’d killed you. I wasn’t too far off, I guess. After hearing what James had to say, I certainly wanted to.

I don’t care how awful Snape was. You cannot justify the decision you made to tell him about the passageway in the Whomping Willow. You knew that there were only two probable outcomes ─ I would kill him, or he would expose me for the monster I am.

You would have let me kill Snape, completely blinded by your hatred for him. You didn’t think about how killing someone would have impacted me, did you? It would have ruined me, Sirius. I already think of myself as this monstrous thing that doesn’t deserve to live. How do you think actually killing someone would have made me feel? And you would have let him expose me just as easily. You’re such a selfish bastard, only thinking of yourself and your own motivations. You would have thrown lives away in order to see someone you hate suffer. You’re so fucking lucky that James caught onto your plan and saved Snape. God, I’d never seen him as angry as he was when I woke up the next morning. I don’t blame him.

I guess I was too in love with you to see you for who you really are, a manipulative liar who has absolutely no regard for other peoples’ lives. You’re ugly, Sirius, and you always have been. I just couldn’t see it until now.

I can’t believe I forgave you when you grovelled at my feet, saying over and over again how sorry you were. It was all bullshit, and you didn’t mean a single fucking word of it. I wonder how hard you had to work at crying on command.

God, I’m so _angry_ at myself for only realizing all of this now, five years after you betrayed James and Lily. Maybe if I’d put things together sooner, they’d still be alive. Maybe I’d be happy.

I’m debating throwing away your pillow case after I finish writing this letter. I’m done, Sirius. I’m done with all your bullshit and your lies, and I’m done with the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to be happy again. I need to feel something other than this clawing, hopeless feeling. It’s leaving these gaping holes in my heart, and I feel like I’ve been bleeding out for years now. I can’t keep living like this, like you’re the good person that I fell in love with, because you were never that person. The person I fell in love with doesn’t exist, and it’s time for me to face that.

Even in prison, you’re the center of my life. You always have been. There’s not a second that goes by where I don’t feel the ghost of your lips or the warmth of your hands. I feel you everywhere, and I can’t stop. But, at the same time, I can’t remember what it was like to hold you at night or to tuck your hair behind your ears. I can remember everything and nothing.

I can’t let myself keep loving you like this. I have to find another way to keep going, because imagining us together isn’t real. It’s this pipe dream that I keep relying on to get me out of bed each morning, and there has to be more to life than that. I need to replace you with something, but I don’t know what.

I’m exhausted, Sirius. Whatever progress I make throughout the year is always reversed when the 31st of October rolls around. It’s this cursed day that brings everything that I try so hard to keep out to the forefront of my mind. It’s this day full of death, and loss, and regret, and I really wish it would all just go away.

I used to love Halloween. Hell, Halloween was something I lived for as a Marauder. We would put so much effort and energy into our costumes and pranks. It was this great, magnificent day that you, James, Peter, and I devoured every year. It’s hard to imagine that Halloween falls on the same date that Lily, James, and Peter died.

I need a new job. I need a new flat. I need a new love interest. I’ve been stuck in 1981 for five fucking years, and I have to let it go. Things aren’t going to go back to the way they were, so there’s no point in hoping that they do. It’s time for me to move on with my life, because I can’t keep dwelling on the things that could’ve been.

Five years, Sirius. Half a decade. You somehow managed to stop time completely. I always knew you were incredible, but I didn’t know you could do that.

Remus


	6. October 31st, 1987

Sirius,

Remember how I told you a few years back that I developed a habit of pulling my hair? Well, that’s finally come to bite me in the arse. I discovered last week that I’ve really begun to develop a noticeable bald spot. This hasn’t stopped me, of course. Nothing can. Once I start pulling my hair, I can’t stop. I rip it strand by strand for hours each day. It doesn’t hurt, surprisingly, but I wish it did.

It’s been raining since early this morning. The sky looks bruised. I’ve been racing the raindrops rolling down the living room window that looks out onto the lonely street. You always raced raindrops with me when I wasn’t feeling well. I guess it’s something I still find myself going back to, although racing raindrops by myself is far less amusing. I always lose.

I had hoped that I would get to Godric’s Hollow this morning, but I just didn’t have it in me. Instead, I stayed in and listened to the sound of thunder and my own thoughts. I kept trying to find some semblance of a memory from the last time I felt happy. The thing is, I can’t seem to find anything. No matter how hard I search, all of my memories seem to be missing happiness. When I used to think of you, I would see your bright smile and hear your loud, obnoxious laugh. Now, all I see is a dull, grey stranger whose heart used to belong to me.

I’ve been having nightmares again, like the ones I used to have back in school. Greyback is always there, listing off all of the things that make me a monster. When we were kids, you would wake me up from my bad dreams by climbing into bed with me. You had a knack for waking me up at just the right time, before the dreams could get really bad. Since I no longer have someone to wake me up, I’ve resorted to not sleeping. Well, as much as possible, anyway. Instead, I either watch the telly or read, neither of which are particularly appealing at the moment.

I don’t think I’m as angry this year. I don’t think I have the energy for it, to be honest. I guess I’ve also realized that there’s really no point in being angry. All of those bitter, furious feelings won’t turn back time. They won’t give me back James, Lily, or Peter. Or you. It’s all just pointless, really.

I’m still working at the library near our flat. It’s never too busy, which is nice. I’m not exactly in prime shape to be talking to tons of people, anyway. I’d much rather stock bookshelves. And my co-workers are fine, I suppose. They never bother me too much.

I started cleaning out the closet that we used as storage, and I came across your snow globe collection. There’s at least forty little glass orbs spread across the living room floor. I can’t find it in myself to put them away. I know the story behind each and every one of them. I think my personal favorite has to be the one we got at Edinburgh Castle. The thin glass just seems to sit so perfectly in the base, ornately carved into the shape of a golden crown. I shake it every few hours just so I can watch the glitter hit the light, falling gently over the castle. The snow globes seem to breathe _you_ , and it's suffocating.

It’s strange to think that the last time we saw each other, we were both twenty-one. Well, you were a few days off of twenty-two, but no matter. I do sometimes catch myself wondering what you look like now. I can assure you that I no longer look like I’m in my early twenties. There’s a few flecks of silver in my hair, and I’ve got a lot more scars. The wolf doesn’t exactly like being alone. I woke up last December with a dislocated shoulder and a broken leg. My shoulder has sort of healed, but my leg is completely fucked. This was, of course, the one that was already causing me to have a limp. I used to be able to get away with not using a cane, but now I have no choice. I can’t get around the flat without it, never mind the outside world. I can just see you laughing, calling me an old man.

I used to feel the loneliness. I could feel the loss of you, Lily, James, Peter, and my mum with such a crushing heaviness. The thing is, though, that I don’t even notice it anymore. The isolation just seems normal now, as though it was always there. Maybe it was. All I know is that the solitude I’ve been left with feels right.

It’s funny, because for six years, nothing has felt real. No matter how hard I try to hurt, I can’t feel it. I can’t feel anything. I think you broke me, Sirius, all those years ago. My body is rejecting life, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I always miss Harry on this day. Somewhere, not too far from me, is this little seven-year-old running around, and I can’t see him. I think that’s what’s the most painful ─ knowing that he is simultaneously so close and so far. I sincerely hope he’s having a reasonable enough childhood. I wonder if he even knows he’s a wizard. Nonetheless, any bit of pain Harry feels is on you. I hope you know that.

I guess I don’t know how I feel about you anymore. You’ve left this big, gaping hole in my chest, and I don’t know what to fill it with.

Remus


	7. October 31st, 1988

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this chapter for a while, so I'm glad it's written! Also, a huge thank you to everyone who's reading this. I think a lot of people are gravitating more towards fluff nowadays, since the world is in such a tense state, and I really appreciate all of you that are taking the time to read angst! <3

Sirius,

I don’t really know where to start. I guess I should begin by saying happy fucking seventh anniversary. I can’t believe it’s been seven years since I lost everyone. I think my head is having a difficult time wrapping itself around the concept of time that’s passed since James, Lily, and Peter died. Everything just sort of seems … fucked.

A lot’s happened in the past year. I met someone. His name is David, and he’s a Muggle. We actually met at the library last November. He was having trouble finding the book he wanted, and he asked me for help. After that, things just sort of happened. We saw a movie on our first date. It was the first time I’d been to a cinema since, well, you know. We’ve been together since, and he actually moved into the flat last week. I kind of hope you do mind.

David knows all about you, as well as the whole “being magical” thing. He helped me go through all of your things before he moved in. I finally threw away your pillow case and your bloody bottles of cologne. Tomorrow we’re taking all of your snowglobes to the second hand shop that you used to love. I just can’t have them in the flat anymore. I see them, and I see you.

And I no longer want that.

I should’ve gone through your shit years ago. It was about time I got rid of everything. David is so good for me, Sirius. Better than you ever were. And God, he’s beautiful. He’s the opposite of you, really: sandy blonde hair, short, bright brown eyes, and muscular. He’s got this goofy smile that just lights up my insides, and his laugh is contagious.

It’s nice being with someone. I don’t think I fully realized how lonely I was until I met him. Feeling another being with a beating heart felt so foreign to me. When we held hands for the first time, I was nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of skin on skin. And whenever we kiss, I swear I can see fireworks behind my eyes.

We have movie night every week, just like you and I used to. It’s the same, but it’s also so different. You and I would raid the sweets isle at Tesco before settling in to watch some action/adventure movie, like _Star Wars_. With David, we cook dinner before each movie. And we mostly watch romantic comedies, which is what he’s into. I didn’t really like them in the beginning, but he’s sucked me in. It’s nice to look forward to a sweet, plotless movie at the end of the week.

Another thing I love about David is that he’s consistent where you weren’t. He isn’t impulsive, and he has a level head. In the eleven months we’ve been together, we’ve never fought. You and I used to yell ─ a lot, I might add ─ and it got tiring. David is like a breath of fresh air. Instead of getting into angry yelling matches, we talk calmly about things that are bothering us.

I’ve even become friends with his mates. They threw us a housewarming party when David moved into the flat, which was somewhat pointless considering that I’ve been living here for years and years. It was nice, though.

For the first time in seven years, I feel like I belong, Sirius. I don’t wake up with this crushing feeling in my chest anymore, and I’m not afraid to go to sleep. I don’t worry about nightmares, because I’ve got David right there to hold me if I get scared. I’ve actually found happiness, something I never thought I would see again, and I’m going to hold onto it for dear life. David is the reason why I keep moving forward, trying everyday to be the best person I can. I’ve reached a point where I’m no longer begging the universe for change, but instead I’m wishing for everything to stay the same. I wish I could pause every minute with David, because I never want my time with him to end.

I do still think about you, of course, but not like I used to. You’re more like a distant memory than a person. The hurt is still there, though. I don’t think that will ever go away, but it’s getting better. It just needs time and patience. I can’t remember what you smelled like or the taste of your lips first thing in the morning, which is a blessing in itself. I used to live off those memories of you, clinging to them so hard that I was afraid my body would break. With David, I don’t have to do that anymore.

When I first told him about witches and wizards, as well as my condition, he was a little overwhelmed. I had to repeatedly show him simple spells over and over before he believed me. It took him a solid month to settle into the idea of me being a half-blood.

Since he’s not a wizard, we struggle a bit with figuring out what to do during my monthly transformation. Our current situation consists of him driving me down to an abandoned house in a field thirty minutes away from the flat. I ward it, and then he uses padlocks to lock me in. He sleeps in the car while I do my thing. I think he feels helpless, and I wish I could take that feeling away from him. The thing is, there’s nothing he can do, and we both know that.

I don’t wonder about you anymore. Time has begun to turn again, and I’m keeping up with it this time. I feel like I have a life again. I have a purpose. I have love. I’m finally moving on from you, and I couldn’t be more relieved.

I feel a little less broken the further away you go.

Remus


	8. October 31st, 1989

Sirius,

David and I have been together for almost two years at this point. Crazy, huh? God, I feel like these past two years have gone by so fast. Time is moving again, which I’m finding much more agreeable than when it had completely stopped. I’m keeping up with the world, and the world is keeping up with me.

I feel like David has healed me in so many ways; he’s closed wounds that I didn’t even know were open. I feel whole again. I wake up and go to bed alongside my best friend, a concept I had forgotten about.

There’s no denying that I loved you ─ I still do, in many ways ─ but I think that we were always better off as friends. It was what we were meant to be, and nothing more. I remember thinking of you as my soulmate, my one true love, but none of that was real. I wasn’t desperately in love with you; instead, I was in love with the idea of you. That’s where it all went wrong. In my head, I can still imagine the warmth I felt whenever I was around you. You made me burn, but I’m beginning to realize that it wasn’t necessarily in a good way.

David and I went on holiday over the summer. We spent three weeks driving through France. It completely wiped our bank account out, but it was worth it. We slept in our car (oh, by the way, we got a car) and had sex under the stars most every night. I don’t know, Sirius, I feel a lot closer to him than I ever did to you. When we were intimate, it always seemed to be for pleasure rather than love. With David, it’s both. There’s no having to choose between lust and love. 

Life is just so easy with David. As I’ve told you before, there’s no fighting, and we don’t get angry at each other the way you and I used to. With him, everything is much … softer. It’s so different from the raw, unapologetic love that we had and the loud, unfiltered emotions that drove our relationship. I’m so glad I no longer need to yell to feel listened to.

I don’t think about you much anymore, not as someone that I used to love, anyway. I think more of memories that included the entirety of the Marauders nowadays, rather than moments that only you and I shared. For example, I was telling David last night about the time that the four of us went on the road trip throughout Scotland. Surely you remember that. Of course you do; you were the one who lost the map, afterall. God, I can still vividly see the anger on James’ face when it flew out the car window. I swear, it looked like he was going to throw you out after it. David thought it was hilarious that we ended up unknowingly driving in a large circle for the entire day.

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that David studied psychology in uni, and he works as a therapist. He finally caught me pulling my hair a few months ago, and we had a long sit-down about it. He told me that there’s an anxiety condition called trichotillomania, and it gives someone the compulsion to pull their hair. He’s been giving me ways to cope with it, so that’s been really nice. Every time I get the urge, I say it aloud. That, and I sit on my hands a lot. It’s embarrassing, but it works. Sort of.

I got a letter from McGonagall this morning, telling me how Harry is. From what I can gather, he seems to be living a fucking miserable life. Every time I think about it, I get angry at you all over again for taking his family away. He wasn’t supposed to grow up in a house full of cruel people who ban magic, and he certainly wasn't supposed to grow up not knowing how loved he is. McGonagall explained that Dudley has just gotten worse over the past few years, using Harry as his own personal punching bag. I wish there was a way I could steal him away, and David and I could raise him. That’s all I want, really. I just want Harry back. I haven’t seen him in eight years. Last time I saw him, he was one, and he’s nine now. Fucking hell, Sirius.

I took David to the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow this morning. It was cold and rainy, but he stayed with me anyway. It was nice having someone there with me. I think that’s why I’ve had a hard time going all these years. It was horrible when I was alone.

Anyway, as soon as we walked up to where James and Lily are buried, he introduced himself to them. I pointed out that they were dead, but he waved me off, saying that being dead didn’t mean that they couldn’t hear them. I swear David talked to Lily and James for an hour, rambling on about how nice it was to finally meet them, that sort of thing. I didn’t talk to them. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just can’t believe they’ve been gone for so long.

It’s only around noon now, so David and I will probably spend the rest of the day watching bad movies and eating pizza and sweets. If I’m lucky, I won’t dream of you tonight.

Remus


	9. October 31st, 1990

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: drinking

Sirius,

Alright, I’m going to start off with the disclaimer that I am, indeed, a little tipsy. David is currently at a psychology conference in Manchester. He left yesterday, and he won’t be back until tomorrow. Needless to say, I’m not coping nearly as well as I would be if he were here.

I suppose it all started when I dropped him off at the train station. I think something broke inside me when I saw him walking away. All I wanted to do was yell for him to come back, but I didn’t think King’s Cross Station would take too kindly to a middle-aged man calling pathetically after his lover. I know you’re thinking that I’m not actually middle-aged, and while you may be right, I certainly look it.

Anyway, back to the story. I think it’s the feeling of being left that’s scaring me, hence the open bottle of cheap wine from Aldi sitting six inches away. I know it’s not like what happened with you ─ he’s not about to go murder his best friends and then get locked up in prison for it. He’s coming back. It’s just … well, I think my body has a hard time believing that. You know, the flat always seems to empty when it’s only occupied by one person. It was meant to be a home for two.

God, I don’t even want to imagine the amount of shite the flat has seen over the past nine years. Nine fucking years. Wow. I used to think I couldn’t go a single second without you. Now look where I am, you bastard. I have a boyfriend, and my flat finally feels like home again. God, I can’t believe it took me so long to finally be able to look past you. What even were you to me? Nothing. That’s what.

Sorry, that came out harsher than I meant for it to. I think Sober Me is pretty mad at you. Drunk Me, on the other hand? Not so much. I miss you, mostly. I try so hard to criticize you and feel nothing towards what we used to be, and I think it’s wearing me out. I spend every Halloween night writing angry letters to you when, in reality, I’m just kind of sad.

Poor Harry is starting Hogwarts next year. I don’t expect Petunia and Vernon to help him, but I do hope that he finds guidance from someone when he goes. Molly and Arthur’s second youngest child should be starting next year, too. I wonder if they’ll become friends. Hell, I wonder if Harry has ever had friends in general. I keep writing to McGonagall asking for updates, but I’ve been unsuccessful so far. To be honest, I don’t know if she knows much more than I do. Sometimes I can’t help but feel as though Dumbledore is keeping all of us in the dark. Do you know what I mean? Like, sometimes he can just be so elusive. I remember how hard he tried to convince James and Lily to make him their secret keeper instead of you. I can’t help but wonder if he suspected you. God, James was so insistent about you being the secret keeper. What a mistake.

What was I talking about again? Oh, that’s right. Harry. He’s ten. Can you believe that? Ten! I hope he had a nice cake for his birthday. Do you remember the cake you and I made for him when he turned one? I forgot to add the flour, and you insisted on covering it in rainbow sprinkles. It was a bloody mess. I think I found sprinkles around the flat for over a week. Harry seemed to like it, though. It made for great pictures.

Don’t tell David, but I kept one of your snowglobes. The Edinburgh Castle one. It was always my favorite, and I couldn’t bear to give it away. It’s been hiding in the drawer of my nightstand for nearly two years. Sometimes, when I get home before David, I’ll take it out and look at it. I wish I could go back to Edinburgh with you.

Please excuse my messier-than-usual handwriting. I’ve nearly finished the bottle of wine.

I love you so so so much,

Remus xx


	10. October 31st, 1991

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short! Only one more chapter to go until things become congruent with POA ;)

Sirius,

Well, it’s been ten years ─ an entire fucking decade ─ and I still don’t have the answers I want. David says I need to learn how to be content with not knowing why you did what you did. I told him to go fuck himself. Needless to say, things are a little tense here. It’s not like we’re having issues. He’s just been working long hours and … well … I’m going through shit, too.

It’s weird to think that Lily and James would be thirty-one right now. I sometimes find myself imagining what they’d look like. James would have smile lines, and Lily would have hints of grey in her hair. I have to remind myself that I’ll never see them like that; I’ll never see them past twenty-one. God, twenty-one seems like forever ago. Well, it was, I suppose. I know I certainly look older than I did back then. I’m a bit saggier around the middle, and I have a countless amount of new scars. You would be horrified if you could see my limp. James would be, too. You know how much of a bloody mother hen he was.

I’ve had a bout of bad trichotillomania for about two months now. I guess that’s when I also started to really notice how much time has passed since the last time I saw, well, everyone. David tries to catch me pulling my hair when he can, but he obviously can’t keep an eye on me 24/7. It doesn’t help that I don’t necessarily want to stop. I can’t even begin to describe the rush of relief I feel when I rip my hair out of my scalp by the roots. David pointed out that I’m beginning to get a bald spot again and it’s noticeable enough that I’ve taken to wearing a knitted beanie everywhere I go, bar the flat. I think I’m beyond the point of caring, though. It helps me cope, and that’s what matters. I don’t mind that it’s not particularly healthy. It’s better than smoking or drinking myself to death, I suppose.

Harry’s eleven. God, I wonder what he looks like. I know he has Lily’s bright green eyes and smile, and he has James’ curly black hair and golden brown skin. That much I remember. I like to think that he’s turned out to be a perfect combination of the both of them.

He must’ve started Hogwarts last month, and I imagine he was sorted into Gryffindor, just like his parents. He was so brave, even as a baby. Do you remember the toy broom that you bought him for his first birthday? I swear, that child knew no fear. He zipped around the living room like it was nobody’s business. I hope he ends up playing quidditch in the not-too-distant future.

I know Snape teaches potions, and I have to stop myself from thinking about Harry being taught by someone who so violently hated his father. I have absolutely no faith in Snape being a good professor. I just hope that Harry’s other teachers make up for it.

I don’t really know what else to say, to be honest.

Remus

P.S. I do apologize for my last letter. I had clearly lost control of myself, and I didn’t mean the things I said. I don’t care for you anymore. I really don’t, and I haven’t in a long time. I love David.


	11. October 31st, 1992

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final letter chapter! Now onto the good stuff😍 I just finished listening to POA with my wife, so all of the feels are super fresh

Sirius,

Well, something absolutely fucking bizarre happened last month. Dumbledore wrote to me saying that Lockhart was “not going to be hired again” as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next year, and he asked me if I’d consider filling the position. I immediately wrote back saying yes. I’m honestly still trying to process the entire thing. I’m going to get to see Harry. Hell, I’m going to be teaching him. I’ll get to see the type of person he’s growing into, and whether he’s more like James or Lily, or if he’s a perfect combination of the two of them. 

I’ve also just realized that I’ve never seen that infamous scar of his, and I can only imagine what it looks like.

I’m relatively pissed off at Dumbledore, not going to lie. He’s refused to let me get in contact with Harry for twelve years, and yet all of a sudden, I’m allowed to see him, speak with him, teach him, and love him in less than a year’s time. The switch in attitude has given me a bit of whiplash, to be honest.

David and I have talked it over, and we’re going to stay together while I teach. He’ll stay with me at the castle on weeknights (discreetly, of course), and we’ll go back to the flat on weekends. Dumbledore has given our sleeping arrangements the go-ahead. David is pretty excited, considering the fact that he’s never met anyone magical, other than me. His little Muggle heart is going to explode when he gets to Hogwarts.

There’s a part of me that hopes you’re jealous, considering the fact that you’re going to be rotting in Azkaban while I finally build a relationship with Harry. Quite frankly, I’m glad it’s me instead of you. You don’t deserve to know Harry, and you never will. In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about the fact that you’re his godfather. It makes me unbelievably mad that you, the person who betrayed his parents, hold that title. And I know I shouldn’t care, especially since I don’t really give you the time of day anymore. However, it is something that incessantly bothers me. I know Lily and James were planning on making me the godfather of their next child, but it still breaks my heart that I never got to experience it. If only you hadn’t been picked first.

I’m really trying to not care about you anymore, but it’s hard. Every year, on the 31st of October, all of those happy memories of us come flooding back. There are years where I’m able to handle it better than others, and I’m able to channel anger instead of sadness. However, I keep finding that I don’t give a damn about you during the rest of the months. It’s like you never existed. I like to imagine that David was my first everything, instead of you. My first crush, my first kiss, my first love, the first person I was physically intimate with. I don’t know. It feels like it’s been him all along.

Anyway, getting back to my point. I don’t really know where I stand with you this year, and I think that mostly has to do with the news about my teaching position. I guess I can feel a sort of anger bubbling up in the back of my chest, but I’m not particularly bothered to pay attention to it.

I don’t have any intention of introducing Harry to David. I think the kid has enough to deal with, and I don’t want to overwhelm him with another new person. Plus, I’ve been put under strict instructions by Dumbledore to not disclose my sexuality. Parents won’t want someone who's bisexual teaching their children, let alone a bi werewolf. Talk about a double whammy.

It’ll be strange seeing the castle again. I’m not sure whether I’m more scared or excited to see the corridors where we, the Marauders, used to roam. That, and the Whomping Willow. God, what memories. On one hand, I think it’ll be nice to remind myself of the time in my life where I had everything I thought I wanted. On the other hand, I now know that all of those memories with you are tainted by your disloyalty and betrayal. I don’t know which emotion is going to hit first when I get there. Anger, nostalgia, sadness. Maybe all three, if I’m lucky.

David insisted on bringing me to the cemetery today. He said it would be good for me. It was pretty warm out, which was nice for the limp in my leg. Going to visit Lily and James hasn’t gotten any easier, although I’m not really surprised by that. I still have to remind myself that they’re not there. They’re dead. They’re gone.

I’ll talk to you next year, I suppose.

Remus


	12. Black Still at Large

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David has hardcore grown on me. The poor guy. Also, I’ve created an updating schedule! Should get updated every Thursday💜

Remus stepped out of the library and into the sticky, burning August heat. He had just finished his very last shift at the library, having given them his two-month notice. Leaning against his cane, he began to wander down the quiet street.

The day had been fairly kind, his leg not bothering him as much as usual. That, and his colleagues had gotten him a going away card, the insides scribbled with congratulations on getting a position teaching.

As he passed by the bakery that he and Sirius used to frequent, he peered in through the wide front window. The smell of freshly baked bread and semisweet chocolate filled the air, and his stomach twisted with hunger. There was a long queue waiting to place orders, something that he and Sirius had spent much time doing over the years. The queue had, however, always been worth it. Remus had a particular fondness for their chocolate croissants, which never disappointed. As he moved on, continuing down the street, he thought he ought to bring David there someday, knowing fully well that he would love it. David was, afterall, a snob when it came to food, and Remus knew he would only accept the best.

The flat sat in a village about an hour outside of London, and it was only a few minutes from the library. He and Sirius, when searching for a home, had concluded that the lazy atmosphere of the village had been perfect, and Remus still agreed with that. David was more of a city boy, and he had been alarmed at the lack of sirens and drunken, late night cheers from strangers when he had first moved in with Remus. However, over the years, he had grown quite accustomed to the drowsiness of their home, and Remus was grateful for that.

He reached the flat within minutes, beads of sweat collecting on his greying hairline from the warm, humid air. A heat wave had been slowly rolling over England for the past week, and it had finally made its way to the village, smothering it in a veil of thick feverishness.

The flat was located on the third story, and climbing up the stairs took time. Eventually, Remus reached the landing with a sigh of relief. As he approached the flat, number 13, he could hear the muffled sounds of the television coming from within. Smiling to himself, he pushed the door open.

David, who was lounging on the couch, beamed when he saw Remus sauntering in. The feeling was mutual, a warmth spreading in Remus’ chest as he set down his keys and satchel before kicking off his shoes. David stood up, walking over to him.

“Hey, babe. Congrats on your last shift! How does it feel?” David asked, wrapping him in a tight hug.

Remus towered over him, his chin resting on the crest of David’s head.

“It was good. Sarah, Monty, and Bill all pitched in and got me a card,” Remus replied, gently pressing his lips against David’s.

The kiss was simple and sweet, lingering just long enough for him to feel at home.

“Brilliant. You can tell me all about it after I get you your tea,” David grinned, leading Remus over to the couch. “Now, your job is to sit here and look pretty. What kind of tea do you want?”

Remus blushed at the compliment, something he still wasn’t used to. “Earl Grey, please. And do we have any custard creams left?”

“Yep. I actually went to Tesco before you got home. Stocked up on all of your favorites, since we’re celebrating tonight!” David said enthusiastically, walking into the kitchen, which was separated from the living room with a wide island.

Remus looked at him, his heart melting.

As David busied himself with putting the kettle on and setting out a small plate of custard cream biscuits, Remus watched the television. David had the news on, and he stared at it absently, realizing just how much he was going to miss the library.

“Tea and custard creams, Mr. Lupin,” David said, setting the teacup and plate down on the stained coffee table.

He then sat next to him, casually taking Remus’ hand in his own.

“Thank you,” Remus said earnestly, picking up the teacup with his free hand.

“Now, tell me all about your day," David pressed, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Well, it was fine. Normal, I suppose, although it was hard knowing the finality of everything. I really did love working there,” Remus answered solemnly.

David gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his hand. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. I know how much you liked the library. But, guess what! We’re onto the next chapter of our life together, and it’s going to be amazing. I promise.”

Remus stared into his round, deep brown eyes, a grin draped across his face. “Well, there is that. God, you’re going to love Hogwarts.”

“I know I am. I’m honestly looking forward to you Apparating me to and from work every day,” David smirked, poking Remus in the side.

Although Muggles were technically not supposed to be transported via magic, Dumbledore had agreed to make an exception so that David could continue to practice therapy in the village.

Remus shook his head in amusement. “It’s really not as great as you think it’s going to be. It makes you feel like your stomach is in your throat.”

“Do I look like someone who cares? It’s magic, babe. Magic!”

“Fine, fine. I get your point,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“Oh, pretty good. When Stacey and I were both done with our noon clients, we got lunch at the deli down the road,” David said.

“That sounds lovely. Speaking of, what are we having for dinner?” Remus asked, pressing a light kiss to David’s forehead.

“Well, I was thinking of making pizza with the dough I’ve got sitting in the fridge. How does that sound?” David asked.

“Fantastic. Hey, is the _Daily Prophet_ around here somewhere? I didn’t get a chance to read it this morning before work,” Remus said.

David stood up, wandering to the kitchen table and returning with a freshly printed newspaper. Remus flipped it to the front, and his heart stopped.

There, on the front page, was Sirius. He looked hollow, his deep grey eyes sinking into his withering face. His black hair, which had once been so beautiful, fell in limp, greasy waves down to his elbows as he strained against the shackles that held him. Remus swallowed thickly, glancing at the title.

_BLACK STILL AT LARGE._

As Remus soaked in the words of the article, his breath began to come in rapid wheezes.

“Remus? What’s wrong?” David asked, grabbing his clammy hands.

Remus closed his eyes, a burning tear rolling down his face. “It’s Sirius. He’s escaped.”


	13. Hogwarts

Soft dawn light fell through the lace curtains and into the bedroom, casting orchid colored shadows on David’s sleeping face. Remus stared at him, the feeling of heartache in his chest. It was the 1st of September, the day he would have to face his past. Despite the growing feeling of sadness spreading throughout his veins, he consciously reminded himself that he wouldn’t be alone; David would be with him, and that was all that mattered.

David’s brown eyes blinked open. He stretched before curling into Remus, his head resting gently on Remus’ chest.

“Go back to sleep, love. You’ve still got thirty minutes before we have to get up,” Remus whispered, softly stroking the side of David’s face.

“Did you get any sleep last night, babe?” David mumbled, still half asleep.

“Nah, but I wasn’t expecting to,” Remus said lightly.

David sighed. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay, you know. It’s alright to feel shitty.”

Remus swallowed thickly. “I know.”

After a few minutes of quiet, David fell back asleep. Remus stared at the ceiling, watching the cusp of the sunrise reflect on the white paint. The more he thought about it, the more he felt as though he was making a mistake by returning to Hogwarts. However, it was the thought of teaching Harry that stopped him from calling the entire thing off.

As the hours passed, the productivity within the flat rose significantly. David woke up again at 6:30. While he took a shower, Remus put on the kettle and made toast for the two of them. When breakfast was done, David went about getting ready for his day at work while Remus packed last minute things in his trunk. By the time 8:30 rolled around, the both of them were ready to start their day.

Remus was clad in second-hand robes he’d purchased after converting his Muggle money from the library to wizarding currency, having refused David’s offer to pitch in. The robes were slightly too short for his lanky body, his ankles obviously exposed, but it was the best he could do in a pinch.

Standing by the front door, the trunk next to him, Remus straightened David’s bowtie. “You wear a bowtie to work every day, and you have yet to put one on correctly.”

David gave him a lopsided grin. “Why learn when I have you?”

Instead of coming up with a witty retort, Remus sighed. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

David reached up, taking Remus’ face in his hands. “Look at me, Remus. You’re ready. You get to see Harry, and you get to teach a subject you loved in school. The past doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t define you. You’re ready, love, and I’ll be right there with you. You’re going to Apparate me there after the welcome feast, okay? Just hold onto that.”

Remus nodded stiffly. “I can do that.”

“I know you can,” David whispered before standing on his tip-toes to give him a soft kiss.

“I love you,” Remus murmured against his lips, a single tear rolling down his scarred face.

“I love you too, Remus. Now, I hate to say it, but we both need to get going. Your train to King’s Cross is at nine, right?” David asked.

“Yeah. I suppose I do need to get going,” Remus said begrudgingly.

“You’re okay to walk to the station with your leg?” David asked.

Remus nodded.

After heading downstairs and into the cool morning air, David turned to him. “Alright, my love. You’ve got this. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“See you tonight. I love you,” Remus said.

“I love you too, baby.”

With that, David went one way down the road, and Remus went the other, walking slowly towards the train station. His leg throbbed, and leaning on his cane did little to help. By the time he reached the station, his train was just pulling up. After lugging his trunk onto a luggage holder, he found a seat next to the window.

The hour and fifteen minute long train ride passed by in a blur of memories, brokenness, and hope. Having been lost in his mind the entire way, Remus found himself rather disorientated when the conductor announced that they had arrived at King’s Cross.

Dragging his trunk behind him, Remus easily located platform 9 ¾. It looked the same as the last time he had walked through it. He and his fellow marauders had just arrived home after graduating from Hogwarts, and they were all in good cheer. Before crossing over, Sirius had given him a peck on the cheek. Little did he know how different things were going to be.

After walking through the wall and onto the platform, the scene of the Hogwarts Express settled deeply into the pit of his stomach. He pushed his nausea down, ignoring the tugging memory of when he'd ridden it last.

Not wanting to mingle with the parents of children that he had gone to school with, he climbed onto the train. Heading towards the back, he located a suitable compartment. He loaded his trunk onto the shelf that sat just below the ceiling of the train before settling into his seat, leaning his head against the cool window. He didn’t sleep. Instead, with closed eyes, he listened to the sounds of laughter and excitement that slowly echoed through the cars. He could hear the whistle of the train signalling that it was going to be leaving in five minutes, and he burrowed deeper into his robes.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching.

“Who d’you reckon he is?” a boy asked.

"Professor R. J. Lupin,” a girl whispered.

“Hermione, how could you possibly know that?” the same boy asked.

“It’s on his case,” the girl said, clearly irritated.

“What do you suppose he’s teaching?”

“Well, there’s only one position available. Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Merlin, I hope he’s up to it. He looks like a feather could knock him over. Anyway, Harry, tell us more about what Mum and Dad were saying.”

Harry.

Remus opened his eyelids slightly, making sure he was discreet enough that his companions wouldn’t be able to tell. Through his eyelashes, he could see a boy with deep brown skin, curly black hair that stuck up in all directions, circular wire glasses, and a scar that crackled diagonally across his face. Remus immediately knew that he was the Harry he had been waiting for. He was the spitting image of James.

 _Shit, fuck, shit_ , Remus thought to himself.

Harry Potter was sitting across from him.

Panicking, Remus continued pretending to be asleep as Harry began to recount a story about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ─ Arthur and Molly ─ fighting. The boy in the compartment must have been Ron, their youngest boy. The fight seemed to have revolved around Harry’s safety.

“Oh, Harry. This is about Sirius Black, isn’t it? If he escaped Azkaban to come after you, you’re going to need to be extra cautious. You can’t go looking for trouble,” the girl named Hermione said in a hushed whisper as she brushed thick brown curls away from her face.

“Merlin, ‘Mione. I don’t go _looking_ for trouble. Trouble usually finds _me_ ,” Harry muttered.

As they continued to discuss Sirius, Remus felt his heart shatter. From the sound of it, Harry knew nothing about who Sirius was or that his parents had known him on a very personal level. However, he supposed it was for the better. He didn’t need to know who Sirius was.

A high-pitched whistle began to hum through the air, and Remus immediately recognized the sound as that of a Sneakoscope. After the three children fiddled with it, the sound eventually fizzled into nothing.

Once things had settled, Ron began to talk eagerly. “By the way, Harry, you’re going to love Hogsmeade. They’ve got this fantastic sweet shop called Honeydukes─”

“I’m not going, Ron,” Harry said, cutting him off.

“What? What do you mean you’re not going?” Ron asked.

Harry let out a long sigh. “Vernon never signed my permission slip.”

Before Ron or Hermione could say anything, Remus picked up the sound of another three people approaching the car.

“Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?” Ron spat.

Malfoy. He must have been Lucius and Narcissa’s son.

“Hello Potty, Weasel. I heard your father came into some gold this summer. Your mother must have died from shock,” a long, drawn out voice said.

Remus could hear Ron standing up in anger, and he snorted in amusement before remembering that he was supposed to be asleep.

“Who’s that?” Malfoy asked, disgust dripping from his voice.

“New teacher. Do you really want to pick a fight in front of him, Malfoy?” Harry asked.

Malfoy turned on his heel. “Come on, Crabbe, Goyle.”

As Hermione tried to calm Ron down from the encounter with Malfoy, the train lurched to a sudden stop. They couldn’t have possibly arrived yet.

The air began to turn cold, and Remus could hear the crackle of frost beginning to spread across the compartment window. The lights flickered off, and an inky darkness set in. His bones felt heavy, and he immediately knew what was happening.

“There’s something moving out there,” Ron squeaked.

Remus’ eyes flickered opened, and he stood up without hesitation. He conjured a silver flame in the palm of his hand, the glinting light dancing off of the dark compartment walls.

“Stay where you are,” he instructed, moving in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Before he could open the compartment door, it began to slide open, and a cloaked, skeletal figure moved towards them. It took a long, drawn out breath, and Remus could feel all of the sadness and pain he had ever felt well up inside his chest. Flashes of Sirius’ grinning face crossed his mind in a blur.

Pushing himself back to reality, he could see that Harry was being preyed on by the Dementor. He collapsed onto the floor, and Remus rushed towards him. Saying the incantation, he cast a patronus charm, silver light pouring out of his drawn wand. The Dementor was blasted out of the compartment with a low hiss.

“Ron, Hermione, please cast _Lumos_ ,” Remus instructed, doing so with his own wand.

He knelt next to Harry, whose eyes suddenly blinked open.

“Merlin, what happened? Who screamed?” Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing his head.

“No one screamed, Harry,” Ron whispered.

Remus reached into his pocket, where he was keeping a chocolate bar for a snack. He began to break it into chunks and then held a piece out to Harry.

“Here. Eat it. It’ll make you feel better,” he said bluntly.

Harry looked at him with his bright green eyes, and suddenly Remus was reliving memories of playing with him as a child.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Hermione asked.

Remus nodded, bringing himself back to the present. “Yes. Perfectly fine. Eat, Harry. I haven’t poisoned the chocolate. We’ll be arriving shortly.”

Wordlessly, he exited the compartment and wandered to the front of the train. There, he asked the conductor if he could borrow his owl, which was sitting in a cage next to him. With permission, he scrawled out a letter to Madam Pomfrey saying that Harry had taken ill and needed to be checked.

As soon as the train rolled to a stop at the Hogsmeade station, Harry, Ron, and Hermione burst out of the compartment. Remus swallowed his disappointment and gathered his things, stepping out into the bitterly cold rain. He gave a small wave to Hagrid, who was corralling first years. Hagrid caught his eye and grinned, and Remus smiled back.

“Scared of the Dementors, Weasley? Did you faint too?” Malfoy asked, strolling up with his large cronies.

Remus’ expression hardened, and he walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Malfoy said sarcastically before walking away.

As soon as he was sure that everything was settled, Remus wandered by himself towards the looming castle that sat not very far ahead of him. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was about to walk into a life that he didn’t care to remember.

The marble stairs up to the castle were the same, and the torches glowing in the corridor that led to the Great Hall flickered with a familiar shade of gold. He took a deep breath and then walked into the hall, dragging his trunk behind him.

His first instinct was to sit at the Gryffindor table, but he reminded himself that he was no longer a student. His place was at the faculty table.

Setting his trunk aside, Remus took a seat near the end of the table, wanting nothing more than to sink into the shadows. Swarms of students began to fill the Great Hall, the empty spaces at the four house tables quickly becoming occupied.

After thirty minutes, all students had arrived. Dumbledore stepped out from a side door, and Remus smiled to himself. The old man was certainly a site for sore eyes.

Dumbledore walked to the front podium and cleared his voice. “Welcome back, everyone.”

Remus didn’t pay particular attention to Dumbledore’s welcome speech, and when it was time for the feast, he only picked at his food. Truthfully, he was counting down the minutes until he could see David again.

As soon as the feast ended, Remus limped as quickly as he could out of the Great Hall and to the Honeydukes station. From there, he Apparated back to the flat.

Racing up the stairs, he practically knocked down the door in his desperation to get into the flat. There, he found David reading a book on the couch. When he realized that Remus was home, he ran over to him, and they embraced each other in a tight hug.

“God, I missed you,” Remus whispered, pulling David as close as possible.

“I missed you too, babe,” David said earnestly.

When they pulled back, Remus let his lips briefly meet David’s.

“I have so much to tell you,” Remus said.

“You’re crying, my love,” David murmured, brushing tears away from Remus’ face.

Remus let out a huff of laughter. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

“Well, why don’t we go back to Hogwarts, and you can tell me all about your day once we get settled into our room. How does that sound?” David asked.

Remus gave him a sad smile, taking his hand. “That sounds good.”


	14. The Boggart

Remus took a long sip of tea, leaning against the counter in the staff room. Having only a few minutes before his first lesson with the third years ─ Harry, in particular ─ he needed all the caffeine he could get. As he stared absently at the tall wardrobe he had set up in the corner of the room, Snape wandered in. Remus met his dark eyes, and a familiar feeling washed over him, as though he had been in this exact situation a hundred times before.

Remus, for the first time since arriving back at Hogwarts, took a proper look at Snape. He looked older, more worn, although his greasy hair, hooked nose, and cruel eyes were still the same.

“What’s that?” Snape sneered, a permanent look of disapproval settling in on his face as he sank into a chair by the fireplace.

Remus smirked into his teacup. “My lesson for the third years.”

Snape raised an eyebrow as he flicked a copy of the Daily Prophet open. “Dare I ask what’s in the wardrobe, Lupin?”

“It’s a surprise,” Remus said, shrugging nonchalantly.

A hum of joy raced through his veins as he studied the look of disgruntlement on Snape’s face.

“You know,” Snape began, turning the page of the Daily Prophet, “I did everything I could to try to convince Dumbledore to not hire you. I told him that someone like you would be nothing but trouble, and that if you almost killed me at sixteen, then Merlin knows what you’d be capable of as a full adult─”

“For God’s sake, Severus, would you let that go? I wasn’t a part of that,” Remus snapped, memories of Sirius apologizing for the prank flooding his mind.

“Very likely, Lupin,” Snape scowled.

Remus sighed, trying to control the anger that was bursting through him. “If you’ll please excuse me, I need to go start my class.”

Without waiting for a response from Snape, Remus strolled cooly out of the staff room and into the empty corridor. Instead of focusing on Snape’s words, which were repeating endlessly in his mind, he turned his attention to the fact that he was going to be teaching Harry for the first time in just a few moments.

When he entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he found himself face to face with young students, all of whom were blinking up at him. He immediately found Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, and offered them a small smile as he set down his briefcase.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Remus greeted the class brightly. “Please put your books back in your bags. Today, you’ll only need your wands. Follow me.”

Murmurs of curiosity erupted into the air as Remus led the students out of the classroom and back into the corridor. Hovering in front of the staff room door was Peeves, who was in the midst of clogging the keyhole with chewing gum. When Peeve’s finally noticed Remus, he broke into a wide grin.

“Loony, loopy, Lupin! Loony, loopy, Lupin!” Peeves sang, dancing in front of the class.

Remus, amused at the song that Peeves had created for him back when he was a first year, took out his wand.

“Now class, this is a very practical spell. Please pay attention. _Waddiwasi!_ ” Remus shouted, pointing his wand.

The chewing gum quickly shot out of the keyhole and into Peeves’ nose. As Remus watched Peeves float away, cursing, he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. James had been the one to teach him the spell during their fourth year. With Harry watching him intently, it was almost as though he was back there again. He swallowed thickly, trying to bring himself back to the present. He had known he was going to be constantly battling his past, but he hadn’t realized quite how persistent it was going to be. He thought of David.

David was good.

“Alright, everyone, off we go,” Remus said as nonchalantly as possible, leading the class into the staff room.

As soon as everyone was in, he began to close the door.

“Leave it be, Lupin. I’d rather not be here to witness your … teaching,” Snape said, venom dripping from his voice.

Remus could feel his face harden as Snape passed by him, knocking their shoulders together.

As soon as Snape reached the doorway, he turned around. “By the way, Lupin, you should know that this class contains Neville Longbottom. If I were you, I would steer clear of assigning him anything difficult.”

Remus sighed. Of course he knew Neville, he was the spitting image of his parents, Frank and Alice. Remus had gone to school with them, and they’d even become relatively close friends after joining the Order. When he’d heard what had happened to them, he had cried for two days straight.

“Thanks, Professor, but I actually have very special plans for Neville. He’s going to be assisting me in my lesson today, and I know he's going to do wonderfully. Now, if you’d please shut the door on your way out,” Remus instructed.

Snape shot him a nasty look before exiting the staff room, swiftly closing the door behind him. As soon as he left, the mood of the room immediately improved. Remus approached the wardrobe, which was beginning to wobble violently.

He turned to the class. “Don’t be alarmed. Just a Boggart. Now, who can tell me what a Boggart is?”

Hermione’s hand shot up. “A Boggart is a shapeshifter, Professor. It takes the form of whatever will frighten the person near it the most.”

“Right you are, Hermione! Now, Harry, can you tell me what the advantage of facing a boggart in a large group gives us?”

Harry frowned. “It won’t know which fear to focus on?”

“Correct! However, the key to really defeating a Boggart is laughter. In order to do this, you need to imagine it turning into something that you find funny. If you’d please take out your wands, we’re going to be practicing the spell. Raise them high, and say ' _Riddikulus_ ,'” Remus instructed.

“ _Riddikulus_!” said the class in unison.

“Excellent. Now, Neville, this is where I need your help. Please come stand next to me. What is the thing that frightens you the most?”

“Professor Snape,” Neville mumbled sheepishly.

A pang of sympathy shot through Remus’ heart as he looked down at Neville, who was going bright red. It was clear that he was a nervous child, and Snape was obviously doing nothing to help him succeed.

“I think Professor Snape scares us all, Neville. Not to worry. Now, you live with your grandmother, correct?”

Neville nodded.

“Excellent. When the Boggart comes out of the wardrobe, it will take the form of Professor Snape. What I’ll need you to do is very clearly picture him wearing your grandmother’s clothes before casting the spell. Can you do that?” Remus asked.

“I-I think so,” Neville stuttered, looking unsure of himself.

“Alright. Everyone ready?” Remus asked.

The class nodded in unison, and he carefully opened the wardrobe. Snape, a malicious glint in his eye, stepped out of the wardrobe, heading directly towards Neville.

Stumbling backwards, Neville shouted, “ _Riddikulus_!”

Suddenly, Snape shifted in a blur. Then, without warning, he was standing in a long, frilly dress, and a tall hat with a stuffed vulture sat on top of his head. In his hand was a large, bright red handbag. Laughter erupted across the classroom, and Remus joined in. He felt a deep satisfaction in seeing Snape in drag, and he couldn’t wait to tell David about it.

“Parvati! Go!” Remus said, and Parvati stepped forward, replacing Neville.

In a whir of movement, Snape morphed into a mummy, crimson blood seeping from its bandages. Parvati’s eyes grew large with fear, but she managed to point her wand towards the bogart.

“ _Riddikulus_!” she cried, and the mummy’s bandages quickly began to unravel, causing it to slip and stumble over itself.

Another round of deep laughter rippled through the staff room, and Remus found himself feeling accomplished at coming up with an amusing lesson for the first day. If only James and Lily could see─

Remus silently cursed himself for thinking of James and Lily, especially during such an important class. He turned his attention back to his students.

“Seamus, your turn!” Remus said.

The students proceeded to take turns with the Boggart, turning first into a banshee, then a rattlesnake, and then a bloody eyeball. When Ron was up, the Boggart took the form of a large, looming spider. As he shouted ‘ _Riddikulus_ ,’ the spider’s legs disappeared, and it began to roll over itself. Lavender jumped out of the way, and it came to a halt at Harry’s feet. Remus could feel panic coursing through him. No one ─ especially Harry ─ needed Voldemort appearing in the staff room.

“Here, Harry. Let me,” Remus said, stepping in front of him.

The Boggart quickly morphed into a shimmering full moon, and Remus swallowed the taste of fear in the back of his throat.

“Riddikulus!” he said as calmly as possible, and the Boggart began to morph once again.

He had Neville finish it off before sending it back into the wardrobe.

“Alright, five points to Gryffindor for everyone who faced the Boggart, ten to Neville for doing it twice, and five to both Harry and Hermione,” Remus said.

A baffled look crossed Harry’s face. “But I didn’t do anything, Professor.”

Remus smiled at him. “You and Hermione both answered my questions correctly at the beginning of class. Now, for homework, I’d like you all to read the chapter on Boggarts and write a summary of it. It’s due on Monday. Class dismissed!”

As the students began to exit the staff room, Remus could catch hints of excited chatter, all of them agreeing that it was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that they’d ever had. A swell of pride and contentment filled Remus’ chest, and he smiled to himself. The look of sheer joy and amusement on Harry’s face was easily enough to leave him with the feeling of accomplishment for the rest of the day. As he wandered back to his classroom, he gave himself permission to think of his long gone friends.

James, Sirius, and Peter all would’ve gotten a kick out of the lesson, which was perhaps what hurt the most. In a different life, perhaps James would have sent a letter after hearing about the lesson from Harry, congratulating Remus on turning Snape into a drag queen. Sirius certainly would have been proud. At the thought of Sirius, he could feel his heartstrings snap in two. It didn’t matter what Sirius would have thought. The only things that mattered were James, Lily, and Peter, and the pride they would have felt.

Remus quickly replaced memories of Sirius with the thought of David as he gathered his briefcase, wanting nothing more than to feel him in his arms.


	15. The Fat Lady

“God, that was well needed.”

Unsticking his legs from the bedsheets, which were covered in sweat and semen, Remus collapsed back onto his pillow. Next to him, David, who was panting slightly, curled into him. A wave of post-sex euphoria fell over Remus as his bare skin met David’s.

“I couldn’t agree more,” David said, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Remus ran his fingers through David’s sweaty blonde hair, which was plastered to his forehead. “I love you an awful lot, you know.”

David shifted, pressing a light kiss to the tip of Remus’ nose. “I love you, too.”

“By the way, happy Halloween,” Remus said, suddenly remembering the date.

For once, he didn’t feel the need to write Sirius a letter.

David let out a huff of laughter. “Happy Halloween, babe. Are you sure you don’t want to go down for the feast? You still have time.”

“No,” Remus said, shaking his head. “I just want to be here with you.”

“Me too,” David whispered, letting out a heavy sigh. “I had a hard day at work.”

Remus frowned, repositioning himself so that he and David were lying on their sides, facing each other. He pressed their noses together, wrapping his right arm protectively around David’s waist.

“What happened?” Remus asked softly.

“One of my clients suffered her fifth miscarriage two days ago. We had a session today, and she’s absolutely broken. She and her partner have been trying to have kids for years, and it just doesn’t seem to be in the cards for them. I don’t know, Remus. Sitting there while she sobbed … it was fucking heartbreaking,” David explained quietly.

“God, I’m so sorry. I’m assuming you’re emotionally burnt?” Remus asked.

David nodded. “Yeah. I’m exhausted. Another one of my clients just lost his dad. I spent the majority of my day dealing with grief.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Remus asked.

“Well, you can tell me how your day was. That always cheers me up,” David said, rubbing their noses together.

“Alright. I can do that. I guess my day was fairly normal, although I’m feeling pretty run-down from yesterday’s full moon. I’ve got to admit, though, wolfsbane is such a lifesaver. 

The fact that I was able to have sex, albeit vanilla, the day after the full moon is incredible, isn’t it? I just hate the fact that Severus is the one who brews it for me. I know I should be grateful, but─”

“But, nothing,” David interrupted him. “You don't owe Severus anything.”

Remus nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Keep going. Tell me more about your day,” David prodded, a small smile appearing across his face.

“Okay, okay. Well, I talked to Harry for a bit in my office. He asked me why I didn’t let him go up against the boggart in our first lesson. I explained to him that I thought Voldemort appearing in the staff room might be frowned upon. I think he was pretty startled when I said Voldemort’s name. I wouldn’t be surprised if the only other person who says it is Dumbledore. Anyway, he told me that it wasn’t Voldemort who came to mind during the lesson, but instead the Dementor on the train,” Remus explained.

David hummed in thought. “That makes sense. I’m terrified of the Dementors, and I’ve never even met one. God, the poor lad.”

“I know. I can’t imagine what he’s going through,” Remus sighed.

Before David could reply, a silver tabby cat appeared, lighting up the dark bedroom in a misty light. Remus abruptly sat up, as did David. He quickly recognized the cat as McGonagall’s Patronus.

“Lupin, Black was in the castle. Please meet me outside the Gryffindor common room. I Will explain more there,” the cat said in an automotive voice before dissolving into the darkness of the room.

Remus swallowed thickly, staring at the space where the Patronus had disappeared as McGonagall’s words echoed in his ears. Sirius had been in the castle.

“Remus, love. We need to get you up, okay?” David said calmly, peeling the blanket off of Remus’ lower half. 

Numbly, Remus let David quickly dress him.

“David, he was here. He was in the castle,” Remus said, taking a shaky breath as he slipped on his shoes.

“I know, baby. I know. Listen, you can do this. I’ll be right here, waiting for you,” David whispered.

Remus nodded. “I’m going to set a ward over the door once I leave. If Sirius has any interest in finding you, it should make getting in the room a bit more difficult. I love you, David.”

“I love you too. Be safe for me, okay?”

“I will.”

Remus quickly pressed his lips to David’s, letting himself forget everything for a single second. Then, without looking back, he walked out the door.  
After taking two minutes to set up a ward over the living quarters, Remus walked as fast as he could to the Gryffindor common room. As he made his way, the only sound that surrounded him was that of his cane hitting off of the cobblestone floor.

Within minutes, he was at the entrance to the common room. He pushed his way through the crowd of panicking students, walking over to where McGonagall was standing. She acknowledged him with a nod.

“Lupin, glad you’re here. It would appear that Black tried to get through the portrait hole, but the Fat Lady stopped him. She's nowhere to be seen. However, the Fat Lady is the least of our problems at the moment. We need to secure the castle, make sure that Black isn’t still here,” McGonagall said, staring ahead at the ripped portrait that guarded the entrance.

Disorientated, Remus nodded in agreement. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

“I want you to meet Severus on the third floor. Search there. We’re about to lead the students into the Great Hall. They’ll be sleeping there,” McGonagall said.

“Alright.”

Remus made his way down the stairs of Gryffindor tower, hurrying to the main part of the castle. Once there, he impatiently hobbled to the third floor, where he found Snape waiting for him.

Without warning, Snape pushed him against the wall, his black eyes glittering. “I swear, Lupin, if I find out you had anything to do with this─”

Remus pushed Snape off of him. “Save your breath, Severus. I haven’t seen or talked to Sirius in twelve years.”

“I find that highly unlikely, considering he was your old flame. I’m going to be sure to express my concerns to Dumbledore later tonight,” Snape sneered.

“God, I have a boyfriend, Severus! I don’t give a damn about Sirius anymore. And you can tell Dumbledore whatever you want. It doesn’t matter, since I didn’t fucking do anything,” Remus bit back.

“Whatever, Lupin,” Snape muttered.

Remus sighed, steadying his weight with his cane. “Now, can we please secure the floor and get this over with?”

“Fine.”

They spent the next hour searching the third floor classrooms and broom closets for Sirius, all of which turned up empty. After the last classroom had been checked, the two of them wordlessly agreed to head back to the Great Hall. Snape made a great point of walking ahead of Remus, which would usually annoy him to no end. However, he had more pressing matters to be concerned about.

By the time they reached the Great Hall, the entire student body was fast asleep in sleeping bags scattered about the floor. Remus immediately spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione, whose sleeping bags were arranged in a small cluster near the far back wall.

“Do you need anything else, Professor?” Remus asked, wandering up to McGonagall. 

He had regrettably left Snape with Dumbledore.

“No. Thank you, thoug, Lupin, for your efforts tonight. I imagine you must be exhausted,” McGonagall said, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder. He gave her a sad smile.

“I am quite tired. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to go back to my sleeping quarters,” Remus requested, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Of course. Please send a Patronus to let me know that David is alright,” McGonagall said.

“I will.”

With one last glance at Harry, Remus exited the hall, lumbering towards his sleeping quarters. The corridors were dimly lit, orange flames burning dark shadows against the ceiling. As he trekked up the staircase, he couldn’t help but feel Sirius’ presence in the walls. He had been there. Somehow, the two of them had unknowingly coexisted in the same space, at the same time, and he didn’t know quite what to make of that.


	16. Harry's Proposal

Remus wandered towards his classroom, his cane echoing against the quietness of the corridor. Once he arrived, he propped the door open and set his briefcase down on the teacher’s desk in the front of the room. He sighed, settling into his seat.

This past moon had been particularly difficult, so much so that he had missed class because of it. Waiting for his students to arrive, he didn’t know whether or not he resented the fact that Snape had been the one to cover for him. Leaning back in his chair, he supposed his kids would answer the question soon enough.

By the time several minutes had passed, the first of his students had begun trickling into the classroom. He immediately recognized Hermione’s large curls, Ron’s bright red hair, and Harry’s lanky form as the group of three strolled into the room. Remus shot a smile in Harry’s direction, having heard about the incident involving his broom and the Whomping Willow.

Soon, every seat was taken. Just as Remus was about to announce that they would be taking a look at Hinkypunks, busy conversation suddenly filled the classroom.

“Professor, we don’t know anything about werewolves!”

“He’s forcing us to write an essay!”

“It has to be two rolls of parchment!”

Remus frowned, his mind trying to catch up with what he was hearing. “Am I correct in saying that while I was ill, Professor Snape took the liberty of teaching you all about werewolves? Did you tell him we haven’t gotten to that chapter yet?”

“Yes! But he didn’t care!”

“He said we were behind in class!”

“There was nothing we could do!”

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding, and he felt slightly sick to his stomach. He shoved whatever anger he was feeling towards Snape out of his mind as much as possible. However, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the predicament at hand, he couldn’t get over the fact that he had been betrayed by a fellow professor. Sure, it was Snape, but Remus had expected more of him now that they were adults. Snape very well could have caused one of his students to realize what he was taken ill with every month. Cautiously, Remus flicked his eyes over to Hermione, who was busy scrawling across a piece of parchment.

“Alright. Don’t mind Professor Snape. I’ll talk to him. You don’t have to do the essay,” Remus said, his throat catching.

“Oh, dang it! I’ve already finished it,” Hermione said, deflating in her seat.

“With that, shall we get started?” Remus said, standing up.

As he began his lecture on what Hinkypunks were and how they posed a very real danger, Remus could tell that he was beginning to feel faint. Not only was he dealing with the physical repercussions of the moon, but now he was having to cope with the emotional ones, as well. He tried to focus himself as much as possible, consciously putting an effort into paying attention to his student’s questions and laughing along with their jokes. However, by the end of class, he had worn himself ragged.

Remus waved his students goodbye, reminding them to read the first half of the chapter on Hinkypunks by next class. Right before Harry, Ron, and Hermione were about to walk out the door, he took a deep breath. There were things that needed to be said.

“Harry, would you mind staying for a minute?” he asked.

Harry paused, gesturing for Ron and Hermione to go on without him. “Yes, Professor?”

“I just wanted to say that I heard about the match,” Remus said, piling books into his briefcase, “and I’m so sorry about your broom.”

“Thanks. The, well, the Whomping Willow …” Harry began, trailing off.

A faint smile appeared across Remus’ face. “Ah, I’m quite familiar with the Whomping Willow. In fact, they planted it during my first year. A popular game developed in which people competed to see how close they could get to touching the trunk. It was finally put to rest when a kid in my year nearly got his eye poked out.”

“Oh. Well, did you hear about the Dementors, too?” Harry asked meekly.

Remus sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. “I did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Professor Dumbledore so angry. I take it they were responsible for your fall?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, they were. I just … why do they affect me so much, Professor?”

Remus nodded, understanding where Harry was coming from. “It’s not a sign of weakness, you know. Dementors are some of the foulest, grossest beings there are, so much so that even Muggles can sense them. They instill fear in people and feed off of happiness, leaving their prey with nothing but their worst possible memories. And that, Harry, is why they affect you so. Your bad memories are enough to knock anyone off their broom.”

“When they’re near, I can hear Voldemort killing my mum,” Harry said softly.

Remus instinctively reached his hand out but pulled back at the last second, not wanting to startle Harry with a pat on his shoulder.   
“  
Why did they even come to the match?” Harry spat, his mouth twisting in anger.

“They were hungry, Harry. The crowd’s excitement surrounding the match would have drawn them in,” Remus explained.

Harry sighed, taking a seat at one of the empty desks up front. “Azkaban must be horrible.”

Remus hummed in agreement. “Yes, it is. It’s located on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean. Most people there go mad within a few weeks.”

“But what about Sirius Black, then? He escaped …” Harry began.

At the sound of Sirius’ name, Remus dropped a book awkwardly on the floor. It was still so strange ─ so foreign ─ hearing his name on Harry’s tongue, especially considering the fact that Harry had no idea who Sirius exactly was. Remus desperately wanted to confide in him, but for his own selfish reasons. He wanted to sit with James, pouring every dark moment of these past twelve years out into the ocean. He wanted his friend, not Harry.

“Y-yes, well, you’re right. Black must have found a way to fight the Dementors,” Remus stuttered, picking up the book that had fallen.

“You made the Dementor on the train go away,” Harry said.

“Well, there are certain defenses that can be used to ward off─”

“Teach me,” Harry said, interrupting.

Remus stared at him, cocking his head slightly. “Harry, I’m no professional at fighting Dementors. Really, I─”

“Please, Professor. I need to know how to protect myself if they come to another match,” Harry pleaded.

“Yes, alright. Fine,” Remus said, relenting. “I’ll teach you, although it’ll have to wait until next term. I’m going to be quite busy before the holidays. I’ve seemingly chosen quite the time to fall ill.”

“Thank you. See you later, Professor,” Harry said, offering him a small wave before exiting the classroom.

As Remus watched Harry walk away, he let out a long sigh. 

“Bloody hell, what have I just gotten myself into?”


	17. Jane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed last week's upload. I just started my summer semester of Spanish, which is kicking my ass. Anyway, I keep lowkey forgetting that this is going to turn into Wolfstar instead of Ravid (Demus? Davus? Remid?) so 😂 I suppose that's going to make it hurt that much more, and I'm not ready😅

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Remus turned his stiff neck to look at David, who was smiling softly up at him. "I’ll be alright. I promise.”

They were standing on the front porch of David’s childhood home. Flurries of snow flew around them, landing in smooth clusters on the ground. While David held a tin of Quality Street chocolates, Remus gingerly clutched a large poinsettia plant. Since Remus no longer had any living relatives left, they always made a point of going to David’s house for Christmas. Surprisingly, David’s mother, Jane, was very enthusiastic about their relationship, and Remus knew that she thought fondly of him. However, that knowledge didn’t stop the feeling of dread sinking to the bottom of his stomach. The full moon was in three days, leaving him weak and feeble. Although Jane was aware that Remus was a wizard, as well as a werewolf, she had never seen him in this kind of state. Jane was one of the few people he trusted with his secret, and he didn’t want to scare her away.

David knocked loudly on the door, and Jane quickly opened it. Remus grinned at the sight of her, always astounded at how much she and David looked alike. They had the same sandy blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and small stature. However, two things unique to Jane were her thick Scottish accent and bright pink glasses.

“Oh, my loves! I’m so happy you’re here,” Jane burst, ushering the both of them inside. “David, darling, you know how I feel about my Quality Street. Lovely of you to bring them. And Remus! What a beautiful poinsettia! Oh, you boys spoil me.”

While David and Jane wandered into the kitchen, Remus placed the poinsettia in the middle of the dining room table. Every year he made a point of bringing Jane a poinsettia, and every year she never failed to seem genuinely excited about it.

Once Remus had made sure that he was pleased with the poinsettia arrangement, he met David and Jane in the kitchen. The air smelled of turkey, which was in the oven, and stuffing. On the stove was a boiling pot of water, which was filled to the brim with peeled potatoes.

“God, Jane, everything smells fantastic,” Remus said.

Jane wrapped Remus in a tight hug, and a shot of nostalgia washed over him. Her hugs were quite similar to his own mum, making him miss her even more.

“What can we help you with, Mum?” David asked, stripping off his coat.

“Why don’t you get started on the cranberry sauce? The cranberries are in the fridge,” Jane said before turning to Remus and putting her hand on his forehead. “Love, are you alright? You look rather pale.”

Remus let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s … well, it’s nearing the full moon.”

Jane frowned. “Oh, _of course_. Three days, isn’t it? I mark every full moon on the calendar so that I can send you good energy when the time comes. Why don’t you go sit on the couch in the living room and pop on a movie?”

“I think that’s a great idea, Mum. Want me to help you, babe?” David asked.

“Yeah. Okay,” Remus said, begrudgingly agreeing.

David put his arm around Remus’ waist, and together they hobbled to the living room. When the moon was nearing, Remus’ limp always became worse, to the point where his cane was practically useless. It didn’t help that he was growing weaker with every passing moment.

“Okay, love, here you are,” David said, gently lowering Remus onto the couch before bringing him the television remote. “Want me to stay in here with you? Mum won’t mind making the cranberry sauce.”

Remus shook his head adamantly as he turned on the television. “No, you go help her. I’ll be fine here. Look, _Home Alone_ is on. You know how much I love that movie.”

David sighed, leaning over to press a light kiss to Remus’ forehead. “Alright. If you need anything, just give a shout.”

“Will do.”

As soon as David disappeared into the kitchen, Remus huddled into the corner of the couch, pulling a crocheted blanket over him. His head was pounding, and he could hear a roaring in his ears. With every laborious breath came the aching expansion of his ribcage. The older he grew, the more painful his transitions were.

He looked to the mantlepiece, which was covered in picture frames. The largest photo was of David, his father, and Jane. David’s father had passed away when he was seven, so all photos of him were particularly treasured. The next photo was of David and Jane at his secondary school graduation. David had worn obnoxiously large aviator glasses back then, and he’d had braces. Remus snorted to himself, wishing that he had known David at age eighteen.

The more he looked at the photographs, the more he missed his own parents. He always thought of them more around the holidays, and this year was proving to be particularly difficult. His mum had adored Christmas, much like Jane, and consistently went above and beyond to create the perfect day. Remus sighed, letting himself think about the Monopoly marathons they would have after Christmas dinner, lasting well into the early morning. His father had a knack for it, and he would always win. As a child, this infuriated Remus. However, as he grew older, it was something he’d come to cherish. His father had been a rather shy man, and Monopoly was the one time where he had been truly vocal.

An hour and a half later, dinner was ready. David helped Remus up from his seat on the couch, acting as a second cane as they wandered over to the dining room table. He and David sat one one side, and Jane sat next to them at the head of the table. On both sides of the poinsettia were plates filled with mounds of food, from mashed potatoes, to dinner rolls, to cranberry sauce, to turkey and gravy. Everything both smelled and looked heavenly.

Without hesitating, David made up Remus’ plate. The one good thing about transitioning was that Remus’ appetite greatly increased. David winked as he placed his plate in front of him, which was filled to the brim with towers of food.

As soon as everyone was settled with their plates of food, Jane cleared her throat. “I’d like to take a moment to have us think about David’s father, Harold, and Remus’ lovely parents, Hope and Lyall. They are dearly missed on this day of celebration, family, and love. We think of you three often, and you will never leave our hearts. Harold, darling, I swear I could feel you in the kitchen with me. Do you remember how you used to hover in the kitchen and steel dinner rolls when you thought I wasn’t looking? God, I miss that. Anyway, is there anything you’d like to say, Remus?”

Remus, who was on the verge of crying, nodded. “Uh, yeah. Mum, Dad, I miss you so much. I wish you were here with us. You would absolutely love David and Jane, and I’m so lucky to have them as my family since you aren’t here. I love you both so much.”

Jane blew a kiss to the sky before digging into her dinner, and Remus and David followed.

As David and Jane joked about a long forgotten Christmas memory, the thought of Sirius slipped into Remus’ mind. He couldn’t help but picture Padfoot wandering out in the snow, scavenging for scraps to eat. Remus swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, thinking of all of the Christmases they had spent together, along with James, Lily, and Peter.

 _No_ , he thought to himself. _Don’t let him get to you. Sirius doesn’t deserve your time anymore. You’ve got David and Jane. He doesn’t matter. The past doesn’t matter_.

Remus caught David’s eye, and they smiled at each other.


	18. Harry's First Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I very nearly cried while writing this, and I *never* cry. Be warned.

Christmas holidays came and went with a blur, and before Remus knew it, he and David were making their journey back to the castle. Early January had brought a thick blanket of snow to the Scottish Highlands, leaving the Hogwarts grounds frozen and glistening. Luckily, Remus had reminded David that he could simply levitate their luggage instead of dragging it behind them on the slippery black ice as they made their trek to the castle. Remus was still too weak from the full moon to Apparate, so walking had to do.

Once in the castle, which was eerily quiet, Remus led David down to McGonagall’s office, having promised to check in with her once he and David got back. As they reached the corridor where her office sat, Remus faltered, tripping slightly over his long, gangly legs. Quickly, David caught hold of him, steadying Remus until he was able to do so himself.

“You sure you’re okay, babe?” David asked, raising an eyebrow.

Remus nodded. “Fine.”

“Remus, you’re a terrible liar,” David said flatly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said, letting out a soft huff of laughter as they continued slowly down the corridor.

When they arrived at the door to McGonagall’s office, Remus let out a heavy sigh, wiping the thin line of sweat sitting on his upper lip. His bad leg was in worse shape than usual, the blinding pain radiating from his knee outward. He shifted his weight, leaning heavier on his cane. Unfortunately, this did nothing.

David, looking at Remus with concern, gently knocked on the oak door.

The door flicked open. McGonagall was sitting at her desk, grading what Remus assumed were the Transfiguration exams given right before the Christmas holiday. She flicked her eyes up, and Remus swore he could see the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Ah. Mr. Lupin, Mr. Morrison. Please, come in,” McGonagall said, setting down her quill.

They took a seat across from her at the desk.

“I daresay, Lupin … you look terrible,” McGonagall said, frowning.

Remus let out a bark of laughter. “Thanks, Professor.”

David rolled his eyes. “This past moon was particularly bad, even with the wolfsbane.”

“I see,” McGonagall said, nodding.

“Well, I’ll be sure to pass that along to Poppy. I’m positive she can set you up with a Sleeping Draught tonight.”

“Thank you,” Remus said.

“Now, as for the reason why I asked you both here. We have had somewhat of a development regarding Sirius Black,” McGonagall said.

At her words, Remus searched for David’s hand.

“Has there been another sighting?” he asked.

McGonagall shook her head. “No, but … Lupin, we believe that Sirius sent Harry a Firebolt for Christmas.”

“I―I beg your pardon?” Remus asked, confused.

“On Christmas day,” McGonagall began, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Harry received a Firebolt anonymously. Miss Granger, bless that child for having brains, reported it to me under the suspicion that Sirius might have sent it after catching word of Harry’s Nimbus being destroyed. I confiscated it, and it’s currently undergoing rigorous testi―”

“Wait,” Remus said. “You’re telling me that Sirius sent a _fucking broom_ ―”

“Remus,” David warned.

“―To Harry? As what, a _Christmas present_? God, I can’t believe this,” Remus said, muttering the last sentence.

“Lupin, if you’d please let me finish,” McGonagall said, arching an eyebrow. “The Firebolt is undergoing rigorous testing at the moment, and Dumbledore has decided to let Harry have the broom back if it comes back clean of hexes, jinxes, and curses.”

“This means he’s getting closer, though, doesn’t it?” David asked, frowning.

“Yes and no, Mr. Morrison.”

“First breaking into the castle, and now this? How are we supposed to protect Harry?” Remus asked.

McGonagall let out a weary sigh. “We have to trust that we’re doing enough.”

“I mean, there are Dementors everywhere, for God’s sake! You’d think they’d be able to stop Sirius from getting anywhere near the castle,” Remus said.

“Lupin, you and I both know that there’s no use in trusting anything the Ministry does,” McGonagall said flatly, folding her hands together.

Remus sighed.

“Is―is there anything we can do to help?” David asked.

“No, Mr. Morrison. All I ask is for you to continue being vigilant,” McGonagall said.

“Is David still safe here?” Remus asked.

“Honestly, Lupin, I’m unsure on the matter. David, you, of course, don’t have the same defensive skills that we do, and this poses a risk to you and your well being. I’ll ask Dumbledore about it when I get the chance. In the meanwhile, however, I’d urge you two to discuss your options. David, it simply might be safer for you to return to your flat,” McGonagall said.

Remus glanced towards David, feeling like he was going to be sick. He was barely getting through each day as it was, nevermind without David. The idea of being left alone to face everything threw him right back to the beginning ― the years that spanned between Sirius’ arrest and meeting David.

“Alright. We’ll talk it over,” David said.

“Excellent. Well, I need to finish grading these exams before all of the students get back tomorrow,” McGonagall said.

“Right. Thanks for meeting with us, Professor. Have a great night,” David said before helping a wordless Remus to his feet and out of the office.

The walk back to their living quarters was filled with a heavy silence.

Once they got back to their living quarters, Remus immediately collapsed on the four-poster bed, panting. He peered out the bedroom window from his spot on the bed, watching the deep blue surf of the Great Lake lap onto the frosty shore.

“Hey,” David said, settling into bed next to him.

Remus blinked.

“We’ll figure this out, okay? I promise,” David said.

“It … it might be better for you to go, David. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt ― if, if _he_ hurt you―” Remus began.

“Shh, love. It’s okay. We don’t need to talk about this now. We’ve still got time,” David said, lifting their laced fingers up to his mouth and placing soft kisses on Remus’ knuckles.

For the first time in a long while, Remus wondered what it would take for all of this to go away.

☙ ☙ ☙

Two days later, the new term began. Remus intimately recognized the looks on his students’ faces of being glad to be back after the holidays, yet disappointed that classes were resuming. However, the one student that this didn’t seem to apply to was Hermione Granger.

As soon as Remus walked into his fifth period class, he spotted Hermione, who was straightening up her pre-organized rows of quills and stacks of parchment on the desk. Next to her, the textbook was already flipped open.

In contrast, both Harry and Ron seemed to be far less enthusiastic, as did the rest of the class. Fortunately, Remus was able to quickly remedy the look of boredom as soon as he began to welcome the students back from holidays.

Over the ninety minutes, he’d only caught himself thinking about Sirius twice, which he considered to be a great feat. And, despite the two times his thoughts had become interrupted, he had been able to steer himself back on track, managing to cover everything he had wanted regarding the introduction to their new lesson.

By the time class ended, Remus was in a fairly good mood. It wasn’t until he noticed Harry lingering after everyone else had left that reality began to sink in once more.

“Is there something you need, Harry?” Remus asked as he began to flip through the lesson plan for his next class.

“Uh, yes. I just wanted to remind you that you’d promised to teach me how to produce a Patronus at the end of last term,” Harry said.

 _Right_ , Remus thought to himself. _That_.

“Ah, yes. Well, how does eight o’clock on Thursday evening sound? The History of Magic classroom should be big enough for our lesson. Now, I’ll just need to figure out how we’re going to do this, as we can’t bring a real Dementor into the castle …”

☙ ☙ ☙

On Thursday evening, Remus found himself running five minutes late. By the time he reached Mr. Binn’s classroom, the lamps were already lit. As he wandered inside, lugging a large suitcase behind him, he spotted Harry standing near Mr. Binn’s desk.

“What’s that?” Harry asked as Remus plopped the suitcase onto the desk with a grunt.

“Another Boggart,” Remus said with a sigh. “I’d been searching high and low for one ever since Tuesday. Luckily, I managed to find this one in Mr. Filch’s filing cabinet. This is the closest we’re going to be able to get to a real Dementor, as it’ll turn into one when it sees you. I can store him in my office when he’s not in use. There’s a cupboard under my desk that I think he’ll take a strong liking to.”

“Oh. Uh, okay,” Harry said hesitantly.

Remus took out his wand and gestured for Harry to do the same.

“So, Harry, the spell you’re going to be learning is incredibly advanced magic. In fact, it’s well beyond Ordinary Wizarding level,” Remus said.

A certain determination set over Harry’s face. “How does it work?”

“Well, when produced correctly, the spell produces a Patronus. Your Patronus will act as a barrier between you and the Dementor. As you know, Dementors feed on happiness. The Patronus’ job is to fight this, providing you with happiness and, most importantly, hope. However, Harry, it should be noted that the Patronus might be too difficult for you. Many qualified wizards aren’t able to conjure one.”

“What do they look like?”

“Well, each one looks different, I suppose.”

Harry nodded. “And how does one exactly … conjure it?”

“You use an incantation. However, this incantation will only work if you concentrate very hard on your single happiest memory,” Remus said.

At that, Harry’s face blanched, and Remus’ heart broke in two. He’d obviously known that Harry had a difficult childhood, but it was different seeing it written so plainly across his face. A swell of anger rose up inside Remus’ chest. Harry wasn’t supposed to have grown up that way.

With a deep breath, Remus banished those thoughts. There was no point dwelling on the past ― not now.

“Repeat after me, Harry. _Expecto patronum_.”

Harry cleared his throat. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

“Excellent, Harry. Are you concentrating on your happy memory?” Remus asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Harry muttered, blushing. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

After a few attempts, a silvery wisp shot out of the tip of Harry’s wand, dissolving into the air.

“What―what was that?” Harry asked.

“Superb, Harry. That was the beginning of your Patronus. Ready to put it into practice?” Remus asked.

“Uh, yes,” Harry said, gulping.

As soon as Harry had relocated to the center of the classroom, ensuring that he had enough space, Remus began to unzip the lid of the suitcase. There was a nervous hum inside his chest.

As soon as he ripped the lid back, a Dementor began to rise out of the suitcase, it’s black cloak sweeping behind. Remus could feel a deep, shattering coldness spreading throughout the classroom as the Dementor moved closer to Harry.

“ _Expecto patronum_!” Harry yelled. “ _Expecto patronum_!”

Remus could tell that Harry’s incantation wasn’t working.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Without warning, Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and he collapsed onto the ground with a loud _thump_. Remus, trying to remain calm, approached the Dementor, which quickly turned into the image of a full moon.

“ _Riddikulus_!”

The Boggart shot back into the suitcase, and Remus zipped it closed before heading over to Harry’s side.

“Harry,” he began, gingerly shaking his shoulder. “Harry!”

Harry’s eyes shot open.

“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.

“Nonsense. Are you alright?” Remus asked, frowning.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Remus said, handing him a Chocolate Frog.

“Eat this. It’ll help with the next round. I think you did quite well for your first time. I wasn’t expecting you to get it straight away. If you had, I would have been shocked.”

“It’s … it’s getting worse. That time ― my mother’s screams were worse. Louder. And Voldemort. I could―”

Remus swallowed thickly, the thought of Lily dying causing the room to sway slightly.

He briefly closed his eyes, taking a breath.

“You know, Harry, I’d understand if you didn’t want to continue. Hearing your mother―”

“No, no, I want to!” Harry said through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog. “I need to! I can’t afford to lose this match with Ravenclaw, and if the Dementors show up again at the game―”

“Alright,” Remus said, sighing. “How about you pick a different memory? Something happier, perhaps?”

Harry nodded.

“Alright, ready?” Remus asked, his hand on the lid of the suitcase.

“Ready.”

As soon as the Dementor lifted out of the suitcase, Harry began to point his wand.

“ _Expecto patronum_! _Expecto patronum_!”

Once again, Harry’s incantation wasn’t strong enough, and he collapsed onto the floor. Remus ushered the Boggart back into the suitcase as quickly as he could.

“Harry,” Remus said, leaning over him. “Harry, wake up!”

It took a lengthy moment before Harry opened his eyes again. As he sat up, Remus could tell that something was different.

“I heard my dad that time,” Harry said. “I’ve never heard him before, but I did then. He tried to give my mum time to run by fighting Voldemort himself.”

Remus watched as tears began to stain Harry’s cheeks, holding back his own desire to cry. His stomach twisted itself into a dense knot, and he found his breathing a bit more rapid than he would’ve liked.

“You … heard James?” Remus asked, trying to remain as calm as possible.

In all of his years of mourning, he’d never thought he would be talking with Harry about his parents’ deaths.

“Yeah, I, uh … did you know him?” Harry asked, pushing up his glasses.

Remus nodded. “Yes, I … we―we were friends at Hogwarts. I … might I suggest we leave it be for tonight? This charm … it’s incredibly advanced, Harry. I shouldn’t have pushed you so―”

“No!” Harry said, standing up. “No. I’d like to go again. Please. I just need to think of something happier.”

As Remus watched Harry search for a different memory, he couldn’t help but think of the memory he used when casting the Patronus charm ― a memory that not even David knew about.

_It had been the night he and Sirius had moved into the flat together all those years ago. After hours upon hours of moving boxes, they had finally collapsed onto the floor of their unfurnished bedroom. Pale evening light had been streaming in through the window, softly hitting Sirius’ steel grey eyes. They faced each other, their noses only half an inch apart._

_“Thanks for having me, Moony,” Sirius had said, a lopsided grin spreading across his face._

_Remus had rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to thank me, Pads. This is our flat, remember? I didn’t―”_

_“No,” Sirius had said, interrupting him. “I didn’t mean that. I just … thank you for loving me, is all.”_

_“Oh. Of course, Pads. How could I not love you?”_

_“Well …”_

_Remus had snorted, shoving Sirius lightly on the shoulder before kissing him, hard and long. They had stayed there, on the dusty bedroom floor, until long after the sun had set._

“Alright, I’ve got one.”

Remus blinked, realizing that it was Harry in front of him, not Sirius.

“Right. Okay. Ready?” he asked, unzipping the suitcase once more. “Remember to concentrate!”

Once the Dementor was fully out of the suitcase, Harry raised his wand.

“ _Expecto patronum_! _Expecto patronum_!”

For a moment, Remus wondered if the incantation was going to fail again. Then, silver ribbons of light shot out of the end of Harry’s wand, blasting a barricade between himself and the Dementor.

Remus grinned, realizing that it had worked.

“ _Riddikulus_!”

The Boggart shot back into the suitcase, and he zipped it up as Harry sunk into a chair, looking completely worn out.

“Incredible, Harry! What a wonderful start―”

“Can I go again? Just once more?” Harry asked.

“Not tonight, Harry. You’ve had enough for one go,” Remus said, wandering towards Harry.

He dug a bar of Honeydukes chocolate out from his robe pocket and handed it to him.

“Make sure to eat it all, Harry. Don’t want Madam Pomfrey throwing a fit, do we? How does the same time next week sound?” Remus asked.

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over the room as Remus began to pack up. Moments passed without a single word exchanged, and Remus realized just how tired he was.

“Sir?”

Remus blinked, looking up. “Yes, Harry?”

“You must have known Sirius Black.”

Remus felt his heart stop.

“What―what made you think that?” he asked.

“Well, if you were friends with my dad, then you must have been friends with him, too.”

 _Oh_.

“Yes, I knew him. Well … I thought I did. You, um, better get going, Harry. I didn’t realize quite how late it is,” Remus said.

After they said their goodbyes, Remus was left alone in the large classroom with nothing but his thoughts, feeling as though the floor had been ripped out from under him.


	19. The Marauders Map

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told my wife about what happens in this chapter and she yelled at me for being mean😂

Remus stared at David’s suitcase, which was open across their bed. Next to him, David was busy removing the last of his clothes from the wardrobe in their living quarters and dumping them into the suitcase. Looking around, Remus realized how bare everything looked. Through the open bathroom door, he could see David’s toothbrush and toothpaste missing from the counter, and the shelves in the wardrobe were now only half full.

The idea of David leaving Hogwarts was daunting, yet he knew it had to be done. The previous night, Sirius had managed to break into Hogwarts for a second time, slashing the drapes that surrounded Ron’s bed in the process. Remus had been woken up in the middle of the night by McGonagall’s Patronus, requesting him to help search the castle once again. When he had returned to the living quarters several hours later, he and David had come to the decision that Hogwarts was no longer safe.

As David finished zipping his suitcase shut, Remus wandered towards him.

“Alright. I think I’m ready,” David said softly.

Remus nodded stiffly in response, doing what he could to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Hey,” David said, cupping Remus’ cheek, “it’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” Remus said, his voice cracking. “I just wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“Me too, sweetheart, but this isn’t my world. I can’t protect you here,” David whispered, wrapping Remus in a tight hug.

Remus sighed, resting his cheek against the top of David’s head. Underneath him, he could feel David’s shoulders shake as he began to cry, and Remus held him closer.

He’d been so good at being okay as a child. It was how he got through the attack, the full moons, the bullying … and, eventually, losing everyone. It’d only been when David had arrived in Remus’ life that he’d begun to soften just a little, occasionally letting himself feel the things he’d spent so many years avoiding.

Now, as he and David held each other, he realized that he would need to go back to that place again in order to get through whatever this thing with Sirius was. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able survive being surrounded by the deep, twisting feeling of betrayal regarding Sirius and the heavy, aching loss of David, even if it was temporary.

Remus closed his eyes, putting all his energy into slowing his breaths. After a minute or two, his chest was beginning to rise and fall in even puffs, and he was no longer crying. He could feel the numbness spreading through his veins, acting as a barrier against what he was about to face.

In the blink of an eye, he’d managed to make everything feel cold and distant.

When Remus pulled back from the hug, he could see that David was still crying, streams of tears spilling over his deep brown eyes. Gently brushing the tears away with his thumb, Remus took in the sight of David: his blonde hair falling in neat waves to the top of his ears, soft freckles splattered across the bridge of his button nose, and his strong jawline jutting in and out due to his nervous habit of grinding his teeth.

Remus’ heart broke in two.

“We better get going, then,” Remus said softly, cupping David’s cheek.

David let out a shaky breath as he glanced up towards Remus, his eyes rimmed red. “Right. Okay.”

“You have everything?” Remus asked, glancing at the suitcase still on the bed.

“Yeah,” David said, nodding, “I think so.”

“Alright. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Taking David’s hand in his own, Remus slowly led them out of their living quarters and down the stairs, eventually trailing out of the heavy front doors that opened into the Hogwarts grounds. The morning was frosty and bitter, sending jolts of pain through Remus’ leg. Leaning on his cane did very little for support, but he supposed it was better than nothing as they trekked through the cold.

Knowing it would be awhile before David would be returning to Hogwarts was strange, and Remus couldn’t help but watch as David took in his surroundings for the last time. He remembered the first few times he and David had walked aroung Hogwarts Castle, the look of sheer awe spread across his face. Now, there was nothing magical about the way David was looking around the grounds.

Remus sighed as they stepped through the outer gates of the grounds, something that had become a daily routine since the start of the school year. Every morning, he and David would walk to the outer gates. From there, Remus would Apparate them home, drop David off for the day, and Apparate back. This time, though, things were different. This time, David wouldn’t be coming back.

“Okay. You ready?” Remus asked.

David shrugged as he let out a long sigh, his breath billowing out of his mouth like puffs of smoke against the cold morning air. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Remus nodded, gripping David’s hand tighter. “Count of three, then. One, two, three …”

Suddenly, the ground was swept out from under them. Remus could feel intense pressure all around him, squeezing him through space and time. He squinted his eyes shut against the brutal wind spinning them around. His stomach lurched into his throat, threatening to unearth dinner from the previous night.

Then, there was calm.

Remus looked to David, who took in a shuddering breath. Apparition was no easy feat for a wizard, let alone a Muggle. As he let David recover from their travel, he took a look around. They were standing in front of their flat's building, snow laying in thick ribbons across the roof and rows of windowsills. No one was out in the village, although Remus chalked it up to the fact that it was six in the morning. Above them, the sky was an inky purple, its edges bleeding into a deep black. Silver stars dotted the sky, and a bright, waxing gibbous moon hung high. The full moon was only a few days away, and the thought of facing it alone was beginning to haunt the back of Remus’ mind.

Finally, David nodded. “Okay. I’m alright now.”

Remus sucked in a large breath. “Alright.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” David asked, staring intently into Remus’ eyes.

“I’ll be fine. I promise. You look after yourself, alright?” Remus asked.

“I will.”

Remus briefly closed his eyes, preparing himself before opening them again. “Okay, David. I love you. I’ll write to you tonight.”

“I love you too, Remus. Be safe.”

They quickly pressed their lips together.

Not wanting to prolong the goodbye any further, Remus pulled back. He offered David a tight smile before turning around and beginning to walk away.

“Remus! Wait!”

Remus turned around, only to find David rushing towards him. Before he knew it, David was kneeling down on one knee and taking a small box out of his flannel pajama bottom's pocket. He watched in shock as David breathlessly popped the box open, revealing a slim, white gold band that had a braid of leaves carved into the center.

“David, what is―”

“Wait, let me explain. I―I love you, Remus. I’ve loved you from the very moment I met you in the library all those years ago. I’d gone so long trying to figure out what was missing from my life, and it turned out it was you. Remus, you’re the kindest, smartest, most brilliant person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I wake up everyday knowing that I’m in love with my best friend, and it’s the most incredible feeling in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, love, and I’ll do anything to get that. I―I know we can’t get married legally, but … well, that doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be able to call you mine, especially considering what we’re about to go through,” David said, tears streaming down his face as he cleared his throat. “So, Remus John Lupin, will you marry me?”

Remus sank to the ground, hot tears stinging his eyes. He couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying ― perhaps both ― but he didn’t care. David, the man who pieced him back together, was proposing, and that was all that mattered.

Remus nodded, a wide smile spreading across his face as he let out a combination of a laugh and a sob. “Yes! Yes, sweetheart. Yes! I’ll marry you.”

David let out a bark of laughter in relief as he wiggled the ring out of the box, slipping it onto Remus’ ring finger. It fit perfectly, the white gold glinting underneath the soft light of the pearlescent moon.

After Remus took a moment to admire the ring on his finger, he launched himself at David, knocking them both over onto the path. Sprawled on top of David, Remus closed the distance between them, pressing their lips firmly together. The kiss was sweet and welcoming, their tears mixing together as they held each other.

Eventually, David pulled back, a grin spread across his face. Remus, looking down at him, beamed.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Remus said softly, rubbing the tips of their cold noses together.

David let out a soft laugh. “I’ve wanted to marry you for six years, babe. It was inevitable.”

“I love you so much, David,” Remus said.

“I love you too.”

They spent their last moments together kissing on the ground, taking in what little time they had left. Remus was unsure of what the future held for them. All he knew was that he wanted David by his side.

☙ ☙ ☙

The days following the proposal were filled with aching sadness, solemnity, and isolation. The living quarters felt eerily quiet and David’s side of the bed was painfully empty, giving Remus little reason to sleep. During the day, he could often feel himself slipping in and out of his lectures, forgetting where he was going with a point or what he was saying. He could tell that his students were noticing a change in him, but he did his best to ignore the obvious. He was heartbroken, and there was no repair.

It was on a dreary Saturday afternoon that things took a turn.

Remus was lounging in his office, as per usual. Outside, fresh snow was falling in thick layers, covering the earth in a blanket of shimmering white. In the distance, he could hear joyous students beginning to return from their trip to Hogsmeade, and a pang of hurt shot through Remus’ chest. With David gone, his childhood memories were proving to be quite unforgiving.

As Remus began to correct Ginny Weasley’s essay, he could hear a violent crack in the fire that was burning in the hearth. Looking down, he saw Snape’s obnoxiously large nose shove its way through the embers.

“Lupin! We need to talk!” Snape spat out.

Remus resisted rolling his eyes. Standing up, he stiffly walked over to the fireplace before stepping into it, swiftly disappearing. He reappeared in Snape’s office and immediately spotted Harry, who had a deep frown on his face. He turned to Snape.

“Yes, Severus?”

“I asked Potter to turn out his pockets, and he came up with _this_ ,” Snape said, pointing to a piece of parchment on his desk.

Remus immediately recognized it. The words _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_ glinted across the page. Staring at the parchment, memories flashed across Remus’ mind: coming up with the idea of The Marauder’s Map, spending months upon months exploring every nook and cranny of the castle, working on the construction of the map for over a year, and eventually using it to get up to no good with his friends.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Well, Lupin?” Snape snapped. “This is obviously embedded with Dark Magic, your _supposed_ area of expertise. Thoughts?"

“Really, Severus? I hardly think this piece of parchment has anything to do with Dark Magic. It would appear that it was simply charmed to insult anyone who reads it. My best guess is that Harry purchased it from a joke shop,” Remus said, putting all of his energy into keeping an even tone.

Snape’s face twisted in frustration. “Oh? You don’t think he obtained it directly from the _creators_ of this wretched thing?”

“I assume you’re referring to Mr. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs? Harry, do you know who any of these men are?” Remus asked.

Harry blanched. “No. Never heard of them.”

Remus nodded. “See, Severus? I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry bought it at Zonko’s. It seems like something right up their alley.”

Suddenly, Ron burst through the door. His pale cheeks were bright red, and he was panting as though he had sprinted there.

“I gave it to Harry,” he huffed, leaning his hands on his knees for support while he caught his breath. “Bought it a while ago.”

“Ah!” Remus said, beaming at Snape. “There you go, Severus. Glad we could get this cleared up. I’ll keep it safe for now, shall I? Now, Harry and Ron, a word.”

Before Snape could say anything, Remus swiftly exited his office, and Harry and Ron followed. Once they reached the entrance hall, Remus turned on them.

It was Harry who spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Professor―”

“Save it, Harry. I’m not in the mood to hear excuses,” Remus snapped, frustration bubbling up inside the pit of his stomach. “This map ― yes, I’m _well_ aware that it’s a map ― was confiscated by Filch years ago. I’m not sure how it managed to fall into your possession, Harry, but I’m incredibly disappointed that you didn’t turn it in, especially with Black at large.”

“Why … why would Snape think I know the creators of the map?” Harry asked.

Remus sighed, running a hand through his greying hair. “These creators would have found it highly entertaining to lure you outside school.”

“Do you know them, Professor?” Harry asked.

Remus frowned, unsure of how to answer the question. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to tell Harry everything: who the Marauders were, the pranks they pulled, the trouble they got into, and the fun they had. However, he restrained himself.

“We’ve met,” he said flatly before carrying on. “I can’t let you have the map back, Harry. I also can’t make you take Black seriously. Can you imagine the map in his hands? He would have a one-way ticket to you. Your parents gave their lives to protect you. This is a poor way to repay them, isn’t it?”

Without waiting for a response, Remus walked away. He could feel anger coursing through his veins as he wandered up to his living quarters. The thought of Sirius getting his hands on the map shent shivers down his spine. It would be a complete disaster.

As children, they’d made the map for fun, hoping to cause nothing but mischief and happiness. It was hard to believe that the map had taken on an entirely different meaning decades later. Harry’s safety was intertwined in it, making Remus both furious and sad. Something so joyful had somehow turned into a monstrous creation.

Once he reached his living quarters, he collapsed onto his bed. Taking the map out of his inner robes pocket, he ran his hands over the worn parchment. Besides Harry, this was the closest he had felt to his friends in years. The more he looked at the map, the more he ached.

Thirty minutes later, Remus fell into a quick sleep, The Marauders Map resting on David’s pillow.


End file.
